^. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


A 


1.0 


I.I 


-  Ii£  lllllio 


1.8 


r25  1 U  ,  ,.6 

-^ 6"     

► 

p> 


vQ 


7 


*V^ii^' 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WiST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  USSO 

(716)  S73-4S03 


1 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilmd  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


n 


n 


n 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicul^e 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


n 


Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 


rTj    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 


along  interior  margin/ 

Lareliure  serr6e  pB»;  vauser  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 

distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout6es 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 
mais.  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  M  filmdes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


□   Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag6es 

□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pelliculdes 

□    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es,  tacheties  ou  piqu^es 

□    Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachdes 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


r~^  Showthrough/ 

r~yt  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

|~n  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I      I  Only  edition  available/ 


D 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
'itc,  ont  it^  filmies  d  nouveau  de  facon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

V 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


<=: 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

IVIetropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Canadian  History  Department 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  qu(iiity 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
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filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grAce  d  la 
g6nirosit6  de: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Canadian  History  Department 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6X6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  ia  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  film6.  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exempiaires  ortginaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim6e  sont  fiimds  en  commen9ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  emprelnte 
d'impression  ou  d'iliustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exempiaires 
originaux  sont  filmis  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iliustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Un  des  symboies  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  seion  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE".  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  6tre 
film6s  6  des  taux  de  reduction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  11  est  filmi  A  partir 
de  I'angle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  6  droite. 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


^  i 

2 

3 

1 

2 

f    ■ 

3 

4 

5 

6 

iMMMlMMiak.^ 


mtm^ 


mi 


K^ 


5-^ 


IL(DIEIBTir31 


HISTOHTor  I.OUISE. 


.^-, 


!/■ 


(     " 


DAU OUTER 

or  A 

CANADIAN  NUN. 


^^ 


n^Kp'  "  t  !".  ly  ;■  •■  M  tl*»tr 


H:ii">y'j©ii]E, 


1834. 


»-^- 


fl  . 


e: 


■r'-  i^'f-^-:^- 


IjORETTE. 


THE 


HISTORY    OF    LOUISE, 


DAUGHTER   OF    A 


CANADIAN    NUN, 


EXHIBITING  THE  INTERIOR  OF  FEMALE  CONVENTS. 


i    ^ 


Where  is  she^hose  looks  were  love  and  gladness  ? 
—Love  and  gladnesarljiO^  longer  see ! 
She  is  gone ;  and  sintfe  that  hour  of  sadness 
Nature  seems  her  sepulchre  to  me.— Montgomery. 


THIRD   EDITION. 


CHARLES  SMALL,  293  PEARL-STREET. 

1834. 


wm 


1  %r  .  f 


■4  -^  \ 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1833, 
by  Rowland  Bourne,  in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court 
of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


•     / 

* 

7 


^>-%- 


«p 


(rear  1833, 
'ict  Court 


THIS    VOLUME 


IS  INSCRIBED  TO 


ARTHUR    TAP  P.  AN; 


AS    A 


TRIBUTE  OF  RESPECT, 


FOR   HIS 


CHRISTIAN   PHILANTHROPY  AND  ZEAL, 


ON  BEHALF  OP  THE 


BLIND  AND  WRETCHED. 


By  his  Faithjul  Servant^ 


GEORGE  BOURNE. 


New  York,  March  2,  1833. 


*lli)W|P-"""'"'"W'-)«ii»  wmum.  '^  i-Mi  N  upiinii-iiuii.. 


i 


4k!. 


■u 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 


To' 


'.'1 


«  •  «  # 


Some  years  ago,  I  made  a  tour  in  Canada,  and 
was  Introduced  to  a  gentleman  whose  extensive 
knowledge  of  the  local  scenery  of  that  Province, 
and  of  the  most  influential  persons  in  society, 
greatly  facilitated  my  pursuits,  and  enlarged  my 
information.  He  accompanied  me  to  Montmo- 
renci,  Lorette,  and  Lake  Charles.  On  our  re- 
turn, as  we  sauntered  around  the  mill  at  the  Indian 
village,  admiring  the  picturesque  beauties  of  the 
rapids  in  the  stream, — '*  This  place,"  said  DiganUv 
"  is  associated  with  very  affecting  occurrences." 
"What  were  they?"  was  my  inquiry.  He  paused, 
as  if  perplexed  at  the  consciousness  of  an  imprudent 
disclosure ;  and  upon  my  repeating  the  question, 
he  merely  added,  "  The  tale  is  too  long  for  our 
present  hearing,  and  must  not  now  be  told." 

On  a  subsequent  visit  to  Quebec,  a  large  party 
proposed  the  same  excursion,  again  to  enjoy  a  sail 
upon  the  Lake.    Diganu  took  his  seat  la  my  ca« 

1* 


*-^ 
'■^ 


T 


INTnODL'CTOHY  LETTER* 


Jeche.  We  halted  at  the  Indian  village  on  our 
return  ;  and  having  crossed  the  bridge,  we  arrived 
at  the  spot  where  the  dell  is  viewed  in  all  its  strik- 
ing varieties.  After  surve^'ing  the  river  and  its 
banks  with  much  emotion  ;  my  aged  companion 
remarked,  "  I  intimated  to  you  two  years  ago,  the 
intense  interest  which  I  I'eel  in  beholding  this 
scene."  **  Yes,"  I  replied,  "and  my  curiosity  was 
awakened  by  your  intimation,  f  ten  at  a  long 
distance  have  I  remembered  Lorette,  and  have 
been  sadly  taniaiized  with  your  reserve."  He 
answered,  "  The  expression  of  my  feelings  then, 
in  a  measure,  was  involuntary  ;  but  the  causes  of 
my  silence  will  soon  cease  to  exist,  so  that  before 
yoM  leave  Montreal,  you  shall  possess  the  whole 
story.  It  is  not  probable,  after  our  separation  for 
this  season,  that  we  shall  ever  meet  again  on  earth. 
My  age  precludes  the  possibility  of  my  long  con- 
tinuance in  this  world  ;  and  as  you  do  not  expect 
to  be  in  Canada  until  a  distant  period  shall  have 
arrived,  I  will  confide  to  you  the  circumstances  to 
which  I  alluded  ;  with  other  details  of  human  life, 
which  I  have  met  with  during  my  terrestrial  pil- 
grimage." 

Prior  to  my  departure,  Diganu  presented  me  a 
large  sealed  packet.  "This  parcel,"  said  he, 
**  contains  the  record  of  some  past  events  and  cha- 
racters. It  is  not  to  be  opened  until  you  have  been 
apprized  of  my  decease.  After  that  event,  the 
narratives  are  subject  to  3'our  disposal."  My 
friend's  painful  anticipation  was  realized.     We 


I  vf^m  vmi*  n 


^ip 


INTRODUCTORY   LETTER. 


XI 


on  our 
arrived 
ts  strik- 
and  its 
ipanion 
igo,  the 
ng  this 
iity  was 
a  long 
d  have 
."  He 
js  then, 
luses  of 
t  before 
e  whole 
tion  for 
n  earth, 
ig  con- 
expect 
ill  have 
nces  to 
an  life, 
ial  pil- 


d  me  a 
Slid  he, 
id  cha- 
ise been 
It,  the 
My 
We 


f 


I 

i 


met  no  more.  During  the  last  spring,  when  I  was 
looking  forward  to  the  pleasure  that  I  should  ex- 
perience in  a  renewal  of  social  intercourse  with 
the  veteran  ;  after  the  lapse  of  a  longer  time  than 
usual,  from  the  reception  of  his  final  epistolary  re- 
membrancer ;  I  was  informed  of  his  peaciTul  depar- 
ture from  earth,  and  of  llie  testamentary  bequest 
by  which  he  had  manifested  his  re^'.  rd  for  his  dis- 
tant acnraintance.  The  packet  was  immediately 
unfolded,  and  the  contents  appeared  :  o  interesting 
and  instructive,  that  it  was  decided,  others  should 
peruse  the  delineations  it  comprised.  A  note  was 
enclosed  which  thus  explained  the  writer's  views 
and  designs.  '  J^ 

"  You  will  perceive  that  these  sheets  have  been 
written  at  very  distant  intervals.  They  contain 
notices  of  persons  and  things  characteristic  of  Ca- 
nadian society.  The  names  of  all  the  parties 
are  changed.  Although  the  actors  have  dis- 
appeared and  the  curtain  has  dropped  upon  their 
part  of  the  tragic  drama,  yet  as  the  narrator  would 
surely  be  known,  I  have  imposed  the  seal  of  se- 
crecy, until  it  will  be  of  no  importance  to  me  what 
use  is  made  of  these  documents.  I  consign  the 
manuscripts  to  you  now,  in  preference  to  leaving 
them  among  my  papers ;  for  it  is  most  probable, 
that  those  persons  who  must  necessarily  act  under 
my  last  will,  would  destroy  memorials  which  re- 
cord facts,  that  no  man  in  Canada  would  dare  to 
publish.     When  you  peruse    these  biographical 


VJ 


'  I 


Xll 


INTRODUCTORY   LETTER. 


narratives,  you  will  be  reminded  of  Lorette,  and 
of  your 

Faithful  and  affectionate 


DIGANU." 


Cape  Diamand,  20th  September,  1826. 


t 


The  manuscripts  thus  confided  to  my  perusal 
were  manifestly  written  when  the  occurrences  were 
vividly  impressed  upon  the  memory.  Many  re- 
marks and  circumstances  have  been  omitted.  They 
betrayed  a  little  of  the  old  gentleman's  garrulity, 
and  were  sometimes  irrelevant,  or  too  caustic  and 
severe.  With  the  exception  of  the  commencement, 
the  documents  have  been  transposed,  so  as  to  adapt 
them  for  a  continuous  history. 

No  stranger  can  visit  Canada  without  an  awa- 
kened and  deep  interest;  and  an  acute  American 
observer  of  life  and  manners  naturally  inquires 
into  the  causes  of  those  varied  novelties  which  at- 
tract his  notice.  The  peculiar  characteristics  of 
society  there  elude  a  slight  regard ;  and  to  com- 
prehend the  state  of  religious  principles,  the  tone 
of  domestic  morals,  the  mental  vassalai^e,  and  the 
profound  debasement  of  the  habitans  of  that  pro- 
vince, numerous  difficulties  and  obstructions  must 
be  surmounted.  Patience,  with  perseverance,  is 
necessary  to  delve  into  the  secrets  of  their  social 
and  political  condition. 

A  solicitude  to  understand  and  analyze  the  el- 


INTRODUCTORY    LETTER. 


xiu 


rette,  and 


ANU." 


y  perusal 
tices  were 
VI any  re- 
ed. They 
garrulity, 
ustic  and 
'ncement, 
s  to  adapt 


an  awa- 
(\.merican 

inquires 
ivhich  at- 
ristios  of 

to  com- 

the  tone 
,  and  the 
hat  pro- 
ons  must 

ance,  is 
^ir  social 


e  the  el- 


ements of  Canadian  character  and  habits,  influenced 
me  to  use  all  the  means  to  obtain  accurate  and  di- 
Tersified  information  upon  these  melancholy  topics. 
My  acquaintance  with  Diganu  aided  my  desij^n. 
The  circumstances  of  his  life  had  increased  his 
tact  for  surveying  those  around  him;  and  his 
whole  course  had  rendered  it  necessary  for  him 
to  watch  with  all  keenness,  the  wayward  doings  of 
his  associates  and  fellow-cilizens.  His  natural 
aptitude  of  discrimination  had  received  an  addi- 
tional impulse  b3^  the  intelligence  which  he  had 
ibmibed,  and  as  he  expressed  it,  **  After  my  eyes 
were  once  opened,  I  maintained  a  sleepless  watch 
upon  the  proceedings  of  every  person  with  whom 
I  was  obliged  to  become  acquainted.  To  that 
most  uncomfortable  suspiciousness  of  all  mankind, 
in  which  for  some  years  I  lived,  I  am  indebted  for 
the  temporal  comfort  which  I  enjoy  ;  and  I  passed 
through  one  half  of  my  earihly  course,  before  I 
fully  comprehended  the  meaning  of  a  solitary  ex- 
ercise combined  with  the  charities  of  domestie  life, 
except  in  connexion  with  the  aifair  of  Lorette  and 
Chretien !  When  eating  my  solitary  meal,  or 
roaming  alone  around  the  city  ;  often  have  I  vent- 
ed my  dreary  feelings  and  morbid  disquietude  in 
this  homely  couj^let — 

i'v         Father,  inother,  sister,  brother,  friend —  .  *  <-  ■ 

Wife  ! — Ah  !  what  do  those  dear  names  intend  ?" 

Diganu,  however,  had  survived  all  his  forced 
and  unnatural  misanthropy.  He  displayed  tender- 
ness and  affection  of  the  highest  order,  commingled 


1 


XIV 


INTRODUCTORY    LETTER. 


V 


I 


with  a  charming  sincerity,  that  rendered  commu- 
nion with  him  increasingly  delightful.  The  arcana 
of  Canadian  societjj'  he  unfolded  in  its  minutest 
features ;  and  however  perplexing  some  of  his 
statements  appeared,  he  affirmed  them  to  he  all 
true,  and  vanquished  incredulity  by  evidence 
which  no  scepticism  could  deny. 

In  the  following  narrative,  some  of  the  contents 
of  my  own  port-folio  are  conjoined  with  Diganu's 
details.     To  sp^jcify  the  distinctions  is  superflnous. 
All   the  circumstances   are   part  of  those   annuls 
which  represent  man  as  he  is,  not  as  fiction  de- 
scribes  him.     A   flattering  portrayer  of  Canada 
delineates    the  habitans  upon   tha   banks   of  the 
river  Lawrence,  as  a  gallant,  high-principlerl,  en- 
lightened, and  dignified  race  of  mortals,  of  superior 
mental  elevation  and   moral  worth.     To  assume 
this  standard  of  any  nation,  en  masse,  is  overstep- 
ping the  boundaries  of  veracity,  and  that  it  is  to- 
tally inapplicable  to  the  Gallic  population  of  Low- 
er Canada,  is  known  to  every  individual  who  has 
not  continued  in  a  dead  sleep,  while  making  the 
grand  northern  tour.     The  ensuing  pages  depict 
Canadian  personages,  not  in  tlie  imaginative  em- 
bellishments of  romance,   but    in   the  unadorned 
drapery  of  truth.   Who  of  Diganu's  actors  strutted 
on  the  theatre  of  life,   anterior  to  the  capture  of 
Quebec  by  Wolfe's  arm}^  and  who  are  of  a  subse- 
quent period,  there  is   no  chic  to  discover.     His 
descriptions  Qf  the  natural  scenery  are  very  cor- 
rect: and   some  of  his   individual  portraits    and 


INTRODUCTORY    LETTER. 


XV 


:ommu- 
■  arcana 
ninutest 
of  his 
be  all 
vidence 


ontents 
i^anu's 
rfliious. 
annals 
ion  de- 
^annda 
of  the 
eri,  en- 
Liperior 
assume 
erstep- 
it  is  to- 
f  Low- 
ho  has 
\nfr  the 
depict 
ve  ern- 
dorncd 
trntted 
ture  of 
subse- 
.  His 
V  cor- 
:s    and 


narratives  of  events,  I  have  frequently  heard  at- 
tested as  matters  of  common  notoriety. 

That  the  perusal  of  this  narrative  may  enhance 
the  love  of  freedom,  intelligence,  purity  and  truth  : 
and  also  render  that  triple  unholy  alliance,  igno- 
rance, error  and  corruption,  more  odious  and  re- 
pugnant, is  the  sincere  desire  of 

•  #  «  • 


■?: 


*^^-;,:Sf 


v\u^r-: 

*  "t 

iriUin- 

''^^ 

■it 

■  s .  • 

%:• 


Jj^ 


V 


•^ 


.  ^iit..,V 


THE  EXCURSION. 

"  Amid  the  crowd,  the  hum,  the  shock  of  merii 
To  hear,  to  see,  to  feel  and  to  possess. 
And  roam  along,  the  world's  tired  denizen. 
With  none  who  bless  us,  none  whom  we  can  bless; 
Minions  of  splendour  shrinking  from  distress  ! 
None  who  with  kindred  consciousness  endued, 
If  we  were  not,  would  seem  to  smile  the  less. 
Of  all  that  flatter'd,  foUow'd,  sought  and  sued: 
This  is  to  be  alone — this,  this  is  soHtude  !" 


On  the  twenty-first  day  of  December,  17 — ,  Diganu 
and  Chretien  devoted  the  hours  to  a  circuitous  ride 
around  Quebec,  for  the  purpose  of  arranging  the  most 
agreeable  mode  to  dissipate  the  approaching  Christmas, 
in  conformity  with  the  Canadian  customs.  This  is  a 
season  of  festivity,  in  which  every  species  of  sensual 
indulgence  is  admitted  without  restriction.  Considera- 
ble preparation  and  expense,  and  all  possible  ingenuity, 
are  impressed  into  the  service  to  render  the  close  of 
the  year  a  period  of  jollity — a  carnaval — when  folly  and 
vice  rule  in  all  the  plenitude  of  sway.  High  mass  hav- 
ing been  chanted,  the  people  think  the  Saviour  is  ho- 
noured in  exact  proportion  totheextentof  their  crimi- 
ng' -^jvelry.  In  these  practices  Diganu  had  been  nur- 
tured. All  his  ideas-  of  religion  were  compressed 
within  a  point.  Like  every  other  orderly  peaceable 
Canadian  devotee,  his  creed  of  faith  comprised  but 
two  articles — "  I  must  believe  only  what  the  priest 
teaches ;  and  when  I  die,  I  shall  go  where  Le  Pretre 
chooses  to  send  me."  His  moral  code  was  equally 
concise  and  edifying — "  1  must  do  all  that  the  priest 
orders." 

Thusvtbe  revolving  years  repeated  the  same  unva- 
rying routine.    Dancing,  gambling,  and  dissipation 


-1 


1 


aa 


^  r 


18 


LORETTE. 


for  two  weeks  from  Christmas — gormnndizingf,  drink- 
ing and  frolic,  during  several  days  before  Lent — pre- 
tended fasting,  confession  of  sin,  and  mumbling  over 
the  Ave  Mary,  until  Good  Friday — High  Mass  and 
every  species  of  youthful  gratification  in  full  indul- 
gence at  Easter:  with  all  the  other  annual  minor  re- 
petitions of  the  same  farce  of  religious  buffoonery — 
the  same  drivelling  comedy  of  low  life,  and  the  same 
heinous  tragedy  of  spiritual  crime.  His  companion 
on  the  ride  to  Charlebourg  and  Lorette,  was  of  ihe 
true  Canadian  orthodox  stamp ;  a  cree^ture  reckless 
of  the  past,  present,  and  future ;  who  regularly  prac- 
tised all  the  exterior  mummery  which  Le  Pretre  en- 
joined ;  and  with  no  less  confidence  implicitly  trusted 
his  soul  to  the  priest's  safe  keeping  and  clemency. 
They  had  completed  all  their  arrangements,  and  in 
their  carriole,  with  characteristic  levity,  were  exulting 
in  their  anticipated  delights  at  the  ensuing  festival. 
It  was  a  moonlight  evening,  but  the  heavens  were 
partially  covered  with  those  deep  gray  flitting  clouds, 
which,  in  connexion  with  the  luminous  effects  of  the 
snow,  give  to  the  northern  regions  that  peculiar  as- 
pect which  the  Canadian  nights  present :  and  which 
attach  to  objects,  at  a  short  distance,  a  shadowy  indis- 
tinctness that  excites  indefinable  emotions.  When 
they  arrived  at  the  head  of  the  dell  of  Lorette,  through 
which  the  river  Charles  so  impetuously  rushes,  their 
attention  was  absorbed  by  an  object  which  deeply 
alarmed  them ;  and  Diganu  remarked  to  his  com- 
panion, *'  What  is  that  figure  upon  yonder  rock  "?" — 
"  What  is  it?"  replied  Chretien,  "  I  know  not;  but  it 
looks  like  a  woman      We  must  ascertain." 

As  they  rapidly  crossed  the  stream,  they  discerned 
that  it  was  a  female  figure.  Her  head  was  uncovered ; 
her  hair  was  disordered ;  she  had  none  of  the  clothing 


LORETTS. 


19 


usual  for  that  inclement  season  ;  and  she  appeared  to 
be  wringing  her  hands,  beating  her  bosom,  and  ago- 
nized in  the^xtremity  of  despair.  Perceiving  her  pe- 
rilous situation,  Diganu  and  Chretien  with  all  possible 
expedition  hastened  to  the  spot ;  but  as  they  approach- 
ed the  projection,  she  was  invisible.  Upon  examina- 
tion, they  found  a  young  wom.m  prostrate  againt  a 
jutting  tree,  wounded,  insensible,  with  half  her  body 
resting  on  a  large  branch ;  by  which,  it  was  evident, 
that  she  had  been  saved  from  being  precipitated  one 
hundred  feet  into  the  yawning  abyss.  They  rescued 
her  from  her  imminently  dangerous  position,  collected 
a  bonnet,  with  some  other  articles  of  female  winter 
dress,  and  without  delay  transferred  her  to  the  atten- 
tions of  the  neighbouring  squaws.  Diganu  determined 
to  remain  at  Lorette  to  await  the  result,  while  Chre- 
tien drove  to  Quebec  to  procure  medical  aid.  During 
the  night,  she  continued  totally  unconscious,  and  ap- 
parently in  a  deathlike  stupor.  Not  a  memorial  was 
found,  by  which  her  name,  place  of  abode,  or  connex- 
ions could  be  ascertained ;  and  it  was  not  until  the 
morning,  when  the  surgeon  arrived  and  bled  her,  that 
she  exhibited  any  symptoms  of  energy.  Her  wounds 
were  pronounced  to  be  slight,  but  as  she  appeared  to 
be  in  a  high  fever,  it  was  indispensable  that  she  should 
remain  where  she  had  been  first  conveyed.  Diganu 
and  his  companion  engaged  to  provide  all  suitable 
conveniences,  and  to  devote  the  days  of  the  festival 
in  assisting  to  restore  their  patient ;  and  those  thought- 
less children  of  vanity  sacrificed  all  their  fancied  en- 
joyments to  watch  a  stranger,  whom  they  Jiad  deli- 
vered from  destruction,  or  to  a  daily  ride  into  Quebec 
for  medical  direction  and  the  necessaries  essential  for 
their  protegee.  When  their  sister,  as  the  youths  fami- 
liarly denominated  her,  became  convalescent^  they 


^^^ 


t, 


^' 


20 


LORETTE. 


conducted  her  to  the  city,  and  placed  her  where  she 
could  be  duly  attended  and  watched. 

In  reference  to  every  thing  personal,  she  maintained 
the  most  cautious  reserve.  All  their  ingenuity,  and 
Diganu  betrayed  a  peculiar  interest  in  her  welfare, 
Avas  ineffectual  to  elicit  the  least  glimpse  of  her  his- 
tory. There  was  a  cause,  however,  for  the  deep  sym- 
pathy which  Diganu  especially  manifested  towards 
her.  When  she  was  first  carried  to  the  Indian  cot- 
tajre,  and  her  head  was  washed  to  remove  the  blood 
which  was  upon  her  face  and  temples,  at  the  top  of 
her  forehead,  was  a  small  punctured  cross,  with  the 
letter  M,  perfectly  invisible  as  the  hair  was  usually 
worn,  and,  of  coarse,  known  only  to  herself  and  to 
the  person  who  imprinted  it.  According  to  a  delusive 
infatuation  among  some  of  his  countrymen,  Diganu  had 
a  place  on  his  crown  shaved,  and  on  this  bald  spot  was 
also  a  small  cross,  marked  with  the  letter  D.  When 
the  squaws  called  the  young  men  to  look  at  the  cross 
concealed  by  her  hair,  thereby  to  ascertain  the  identity 
of  her  whom  they  had  saved  from  death,  Diganu 
recollected  what  he  had  been  told  of  his  own  head, 
and  desired  Chretien  to  examine  it.  The  similarity 
of  the  figures  was  so  great,  his  friend  declared, 
"  they  must  have  been  impressed  by  the  same  person." 
Such  a  coincidence,  at  any  other  period,  would  have 
been  unnoticed — but  in  the  then  state  of  Diganu's  ex- 
cited feelings,  he  considered  it  as  almost  miraculous; 
and  he  therefore  became  additionally  interested  in  the 
daughter  of  sorrow,  who  had  thus  been  so  fortuitously 
cast  upon  "his  protection.  All  the  parties  present,  the 
Squaws,  the  Indians  and  Chretien,  being  then  equally 
superstitious,  their  varied  remarks  only  tended  to  in- 
crease the  impression  upon  his  mind  ;  until  he  resolved 
to  make  any  sacrifice  for  her  comfort  and  safety. 


■^4r 


im 


LORETTE. 


m 


'here  she 

ainlained 
uity,  and 
•  welfare, 
'  her  his- 
eep  sym- 

lo  wards 
dian  cot- 
he  blood 
)e  top  of 
with  ibe 

usually 
f  and  to 
delusive 
^anuhad 
spot  was 

When 
he  cross 
identity 
Digranu 
n  head, 
milarity 
eclared, 
>erson.'* 
Id  have 
lu'sex- 
:u]ous; 
i  in  the 
itously 
'nt,  the 
?qual]y 
1  to  in- 
!SolvecJ 


The  two  friends  at  that  period  were  commencing 
life  on  their  own  basis.     Both  had  just  previously  en- 
tered upon  a  small  business ;  and  they  therefore  agreed 
as  soon  as  the  patient  had  fully  recovered,  to  make  her 
an  offer  to  superintend  their  little  bachelor's  establish- 
ment.    She  was  to  be  considered  in  all  points  as  their 
sister ;  and  to  receive  all  the  attentions  and  endear- 
ments of  that  tender  relation.    But  to  this  proposition, 
Louise  ,as  she  declared  her  name,  steadfastly  objected. 
She  seemed  to  have  an  unspeakable  aversion  to  be 
the  subject  of  a  stranger's  scrutiny.     When  she  was 
fully  restored,  Diganu  and  Chretien  were  discussing 
with  Louise,  her  future  prospects.    When  the  subject 
was  thus  distinctly  presented  to  hsr  consideration,  she 
instantly  realized  all  her  dependant  and  friendless 
condition.     She  was  deeply  agitated.     Her  friends 
assured  her,  that  their  solicitude  was  only  for  her 
comfort ;  and  that  they  would  consent  to  any  arrange- 
ment which  she  would  propose,  provided  that  it  was 
beneficial  to  herself.     In  the  course  of  the  interview, 
she  acknowledged  that  she  was  qualified  in  various 
ways,  to  support  herself;  but  she  palpitated  with  tre- 
mour,  whenever  any  plan  \Yas  suggested,  through 
which  she  could  possibly  be  recognised,  or  even  known 
to  any  other  persons;  and  expressed  her  hope  that 
the  attending  surgeon  had  not  seen  her  forehead. 
This  allusion  reminded  Diganu  and  Chretien  of  the 
cross,  and  they  informed  her  of  the  discovery;  but 
also  assured  her,  that  the  nurses  only,  except  them- 
selves, were  acquainted  with  it;  and  that  the  squaws 
merely  crossed  themselves,  when  they  saw  what  they 
thought  the  mysteriously  good  sign  upon  her  head. 
"  I  propose,"  said  Chretien,  "  that  we  inspect  that  cross 
again.     Your  peculiar  situation  may  have  deceived 
me  i  but  if  my  opinion  was  then  correct,  I  think  I 

2* 


#' 


22 


LORETTE. 


can  point  you  to  a  sign  not  less  remarkable."  After 
some  hesitation,  Louise  consented;  and  the  cross 
was  still  visible  in  all  its  distinctness.  "  What  is  the 
design  of  this  letter  M  V  inquired  Diganu.  "  I  know 
not,"  she  Aiinily  replied  with  a  blush,  "  no  person  has 
seen  it  before  yourselves,  since  I  first  discovered  it. 
The  only  woman,  who  I  can  think  might  have  ex- 
plained the  mystery,  either  did  not  know,  which  I  be- 
lieve most  probable,  or  else  she  considered  me  too 
young  to  be  instructed  with  the  secret." — Well !  Di- 
ganu," said  Chretien,  "you  are  right." — "  What  do 
you  meani"  asked  the  anxious  Louise.  Chretien 
then  requested  her  to  examine  the  shorn  spot  on  Di- 
ganu's  head :  but  she  had  no  sooner  seen  the  talis- 
manic  mark,  than  she  sunk  into  her  chair  almost 
fainting. 

When  she  was  restored  ;  "Diganu,"  said  Louise, 
"you  have  already  told  me  that,  from  a  certain  sympa- 
thy for  which  you  cannot  account,  you  feel  peculiarly 
interested  for  my  welfare.  This  remarkable  cross 
stamped  upon  both  of  us  justifies  the  confidence  that 
I  am  about  to  place  in  you.  You  will  permit  me  to 
fnaintain  all  the  secrecy  I  please.  I  shall  neither  visit 
nor  receive  visiters,  nor  shall  1  be  seen  by  any  of 
your  associates.  Upon  these  conditions,  I  will  con- 
sent to  perform  the  menial  duties  of  your  hou.'se." 
This  arrangement  was  objected  to  by  Chretien,  "  You 
liave  not  been  used  to  kitchen  business.  Your  refined 
manners,"  said  he,  "your  delicate  frame,  your  soft 
and  white  hands,  and  your  excellent  understanding, 
with  your  other  capacities,  prove  that  you  have  not 
been  and  are  not  qualified  to  be  a  household  drudge."** 
Louise  replied,  "1  have  stated  the  only  terms  upoa 
which  I  will  consent  to  place  myself  under  your  pro- 
tection." 


i 


.  i  .-V  ,   »• 


LORE'ITE. 


Ige. 


•♦♦ 


The  next  evening  was  designated  for  her  removal, 
Diganu  and  Chretien  both  agreed,  that  no  other  mode 
Avas  practicable  to  preserve  Louise  from  niij^ery.  The 
gloom  upon  her  mind  was  very  oppressive.  Her 
timidity  of  being  noticed  was  unconquerable;  at  the 
same  lime  her  resolution  was  so  undaunted,  that 
every  thing  was  to  be  dreaded,  in  case  she  should  be 
exposed  tothesame  trial  which  had  already  jeopaidied 
her  life.  Yet  she  had  never  betrayed,  by  any  inti- 
mation, that  her  near  approach  to  death  at  Lorette 
was  voluntary;  and  the  only  emotion  that  she  exhi- 
bibed  was  when  any  inquiry  was  made  into  her  prior 
history.  Her  friends,  therefore,  resolved  that  they 
would  accept  of  her  services,  retain  her  secret  in  all 
possible  privacy,  and  permit  her  to  live  as  secluded 
and  unknown  as  she  pleased. 

Far  otber  ideas  occupied  the  mind  of  Louise,  dur- 
ing the  interval  prior  to  her  actual  residence  with  her 
deliverers.  Their  knowledge  of  her  awful  situation 
at  Lorette,  their  acquaintance  with  the  mysterious 
cross  on  her  fofeheod,  the  sinnlar  mark  on  Dignnu's 
head,  the  risk  of  her  being  discovered,  their  doltish 
subservience  to  their  priest,  notwithstanding  their  bet- 
ter sense  and  principles,  combined  with  their  gay  and 
frivolous  tempers,  and  her  own  haired  and  contempt 
of  all  the  ra^unimcry  of  their  superstitions,  embarrassed 
her  judgment;  and  had  a  certain  escape  been  prac- 
ticable, she  would  have  attempted  it.  To  live  as  she 
had  done  when  sick  was  impossible.  It  appeared  lo 
her,  therefore,  preferable  to  rely  upon  the  promises  of 
two  open-hearted  young  men;  all  whose  actions,  kind- 
ness, and  intercourse  had  been  so  benevolent  and  fas- 
tidiously delicate,  than  to  expose  herself  to  the  terrify- 
ing dangers  from  which  she  had  so  recently  and  mar- 
vellously escaped.     Under  the  x:oncealinent  of  dark- 


S4 


LOBETTE* 


ness  she  left  her  apartment  unobserved,  and  was  intro- 
duced to  her  new  habitaiion. 


HOPES  AND  FEARS. 

Hope  told  her  flattering  tale 

To  love— but  all  in  vain : 
A  fiend-like  Jesuit  priest  obtrudes, 

And  love's  fond  hopes  were  slain. 

From  the  commencement  of  her  abode  wAh  her 
friends,  Louise  uniformly  refused  to  eat  with  them ; 
and  never  admitted  herself  to  be  addressed  but  as  their 
inferior  and  servant.  At  length,  however,  they  no- 
ticed that  she  used  no  mass  book ;  and  that  she  kept 
no  crucifix,  no  imag-es,  no  holy  water,  no  beads, 
and  no  rosary.  These  deceitful  baubles  had  been  duly 
provided  for  her  chamber,  but  they  were  all  removed ; 
and  the  old  cross  which  hung  over  the  kitchen  lire- 
place  had  disappeared,  and  no  vestige  of  popery  re- 
mained. It  was  determined  by  her  protectors  to  ex- 
plore this  mystery. 

Diganu,  being  in  the  kitchen,  inquired  of  Louise, 
"  What  has  become  of  the  sacred  cross  which  used  to 
adorn  the  mantelpiece?"  "You  agreed,"  replied 
the  trembling  maiden,  "to  let  me  live  according  to 
my  own  way." — "We  did  so," said  Diganu,  "but  then 
we  supposed  that  you  belonged  to  the  holy  Roman 
church." 

"  You  should  have  asked  me  that  at  first,"  Louise 
meekly  answered,  "  and  my  gratitude  and  candour 
would  have  induced  me  to  confess  that  I  belong  to  no 
visible  church." — "  This  justifies  exactly  what  Chre- 
tien and  I  have  thought/'  rejoined  Diganu  **  we  put 


LORErrE. 


into  your  sleeping  apartment,  the  mass  book,  the  true 
imog'e  of  the   blessed  virgin,  and  the  holy  crucifix 
which  all  good  Catholics  worship.    We  also  procured 
some  holy  water,  bought  from  the  priest  himself  as  a 
great  favour,  and  a  rosary  made  by  the  nuns  and 
blessed  by  the  bishop;  and  they  are  all  gone.     Mo- 
ther of  God,  pray  for  us.     Ah  !  Louise,  do  you  never 
use  these  sacred  things'?" — "  No,"  she  replied  wiih* 
out  hesitation,  "I  burnt  the  mass  book,  the  images, 
and  the  rosary.     The  water  I  cast  into  the  street,  and 
if  you  knew  as  much  as  I  do  of  the  priests  and  their 
pretended    religion,   you  would    do  the  same."     In 
deep  uiought,  Diganu  paused,  but  at  length  remark- 
ed, "  1  do  not  comprehend  how  we  shall  manage 
this    aflfaif." — "  Very    easily,"    instantly    subjoined 
Louise,  "  you  need  not  know  any  thing  of  my  princi- 
ples.    With  my  private  opinions,  whether  right  or 
wrong,  as  they  will  be  harmless  to  you  and  Chretien, 
you  have  no  concern.  You  provided  for  me  a  number 
pf  articles  which  I  deem  useless,  and  the  disposal  of 
them  was  my  own  affair."     "  But,"  inquired  Diganu, 
♦^suppose  I  am  asked  about  this  matter  at  confession, 
what  shall  I  answer?"-—"  Tell  the  priest  his  articles 
were  all  safe  tLe  last  time  you  saw  them,"  added 
Louise,  "  anfl  say  no  more.     It  is  enough  for  you  to 
confess  your  own  sins  ;  and  let  me  beg  you  not  to  ast 
sume  my  transgressions.     Besides,  you  promised  not 
to  let  it  be  known,  if  possible,  to  the  priest,  that  you 
had  any  young  woman  in  your  house." — "  I  suppose, 
then,"  remarked  Diganu,  "  you  will  not  attend  confes- 
sion, do  penance,  and  get  absolution  from  the  priest?'* 
— "  Never,"  said  the  weeping  girl,  with  manifest  ire? 
pidation,  *'  I  will  never  go  to  the  confessional  unless  I 
am  dragged  there.   The  ceremony  is  a  farce  and  delu- 
sion, and  it  is  connected  with  the  ^re^test  wickedness/' 


Ajt 


26 


LORETTE. 


Diganu  crossed  himself,  and  half  shuddered.  He 
was  sadly  bewildered.  This  was  a  direct  attack  made 
by  a  female  for  whom  he  felt  an  indescribable  inte- 
rest, upon  all  his  strongest  prejudices.  In  truth,  he 
seriously  believed  no  more  of  the  matter  than  Louise, 
because  he  had  never  reflected  at  all  upon  the  subject. 
According  to  his  theology,  it  was  a  very  comfortable 
thing  to  pass  away  life  in  a  frolic  ;  to  pay  the  pretre 
his  various  claims  at  the  stated  festivals  as  long  as  he 
lived;  and,  when  he  died,  to  give  him  the  number  of 
louis  d'ors  necessary  to  put  him  into  heaven.  He 
had  never  inquired  whether  either  of  these  principles 
or  practices  was  rational  or  proper  or  true  or  religious. 
The  pretre  announced  and  enjoined  it.  All  his  as- 
sociates believed  the  certainty  and  justice  of  these  no- 
tions. Thus  the  cure  promised;  thus  he  admitted 
and  conformed  without  scruple;  and  a  suspicion  had 
never  entered  his  mind,  that  throughout  this  whole 
process,  the  pretre  might  be  leading  him  into  the  dun- 
geon of  eternal  despair. 

It  was  a  merciful  interposition  of  divine  providence, 
that  these  ^^  JtereticaV^  sentiments  were  first  uttered  in 
Diganu's  hearing,  by  the  only  female  for  whom  he 
ever  had  felt  any  true  respect  or  attachment.  Yet  he 
could  not  define  ihe  nature  of  his  regard  for  the  mys- 
terious being  who,  in  such  extraordinary  circum- 
stances, had  been  placed  under  his  care.  There  was 
such  an  artless  sincerity  and  candour,  such  undissem- 
bled  delicacy,  such  infantile  simplicity,  and  yet  such 
a  lady-like  demeanour,  and  such  a  sisterly  confidence 
in  him,  ever  displayed  by  Louise  in  all  her  actions, 
that  her  influence  unintentionally  became  irresislible. 
Chretien  perceived  the  fact,  and  rejoiced.  It  was  a 
counterbalance  to  the  buoyancy  of  Diganu's  gay  and 
sanguine  temperament.    But  when  the  ^^  heretical'* 


d.    He 

-k  made 
e  inte- 
ruth,  he 
Louise, 
subject. 
Toriable 
pretre 
g  i^s  he 
liber  of 
He 
nciple^ 
igious. 
his  as- 
?se  no- 


LORETTB.  27 

propensities  of  their  inmate  were  decidedly  avowed 
by  her,  the  friends  became  wondrously  embarrassed. 
At  that  period,  the  idea  of  a  native  Canadian's  re- 
nunciation of  the  Roman  faith,  was  not  only  a  novelty, 
but  a  monster.  From  their  different  sensations  in  re- 
ference to  Louise,  Chretien,  although  kind  and  affec- 
tionate as  a  brother,  was  not  so  easily  impressed  as 
Diganu  ;  and  "  it  is  questionable,  whether  sound  po- 
licy," as  Chretien  remarked,  "if  rn  our  mutual  safety 
does  not  require,  that  Louise  should  be  persuaded,  at 
least,  to  attend  the  mass." 

Several  months,  however,  had  passed  away  prior  to 
these  troublesome  discoveries ;  and  when  they  were 
fully  made,  the  unformed  opinions,  with  the  lender 
solicitudes  of  the  two  young  men,  combined  with  the 
steadfast  opposition  of  Louise  to  the  faith  and  ceremo- 
nies to  which  ihey  professed  to  adhere,  produced  ia 
them  great  vacillation.  During  that  whole  period, 
Diganu's  affection  assumed  a  more  decisive  character ; 
and  having  obtained  Chretien's  approbation,  he  re- 
solved 10  terminate  all  future  doubt  and  alarm,  by  pro- 
posing to  her  acceptance  the  matrimonial  relation. 

The  surgeon  whom  Chretien  had  engaged  to  attend 
at  Lorette,  about  this  time,  and  prior  to  the  direct 
proffer  of  marriage,  visited   Diganu;  and  requested 
information  respecting  the  young  woman  to  whom  he 
had  been  called  to  afford  medical  aid  at  the  Indian 
village;  as  the  squaws  had  communicated  to  one  of 
the  preires,  the  event  which  had  occurred  during  the 
previous  winter,  and  he  was  directed  to  ascertain  the 
fate  of  the  unfortunate  girl.     Diganu  evaded  the  sub- 
ject by  a  reference  to  Chretien.     That  evening  was 
devoted  to  an  investigation  of  the  cause  of  this  suspi- 
cious research — but  as  neither  Diganu  nor  Chretien 
could  possibly  divine  any  plausible  reason  for  the  sur- 


ibrnti^am 


28 


LORETTE. 


i:r 


geon's  mysterious  inquiry,  after  so  long  an  interval 
had  elapsed,  Louise  was  apprized  of  the  fact.  "  Then 
I  am  lost,"  she  remarked  in  agony,  "  the  villains  will 
discover  me.  They  will  take  me  from  you,  and  I  shall 
be  miserable." — "  No  authority  upon  earth  shall  sepa- 
rate us,"  answered  Diganu  vehemently,  "if  you  will 
put  yourself  within  my  power  to  protect  you,  by  be- 
coming my  wife." — "Wife!"  retorted  Louise  in  ex- 
treme unfeigned  surprise,  "  I  have  loved  you  as  a  sis- 
ter.    Wife  ! — would  you  marry  misery  ? — would  you 
marry  a  friendless,  outcast,  wretched  orphan  ?"     She 
was  so  overpowered,  that  her  conflicting  emotions 
only  found  relief  in  a  gush  of  tears.    As  soon  as  she 
was  in  a  measure  becalmed,  Diganu  answered  with 
affectionate  sensibility.     "  I  care  not  who  you  are,  or 
what  you  are.     For  nearly  a  year,  you  have  been  all 
to  me ;  and  Chretien  knows,  that  you  are  the  constant 
blessing  of  our  lives."     Here  Chretien  interposed ; 
"  When  Diganu  confided  his  intention  to  me,  I  ex- 
pressed to  him,"  and  here  he  took  their  right  hands  and 
joined  them  within  his  own,  "  as  I  now  do  to  you  both, 
my  most  cordial  approbaiion,"  and  crossing  himself, 
he  added,  "holy  mother  of  God,  have  mercy  upon 
us!"     Louise  blushed — trembled — hesitated;  but  at 
length  replied,  "If  no  other  means  can  be  devised  to 
preserve  me  from  my  persecutors  and  dangers,  1  will 
place  my  future  comfort  in  your  hands." 

This  preliminary  being  satisfactorily  adjusted,  it 
now  became  essential  to  prepare  Chretien  for  the  pro- 
posed interview  with  the  surgeon.  Louise  imparted 
no  additional  information.  It  was  her  unalterable 
purpose,  never  more  to  return  whence  she  had  escap- 
ed; and  rather  than  experience  this  calamity,  "If  no 
other  motive  exists  to  avert  the  horrors  I  anticipate," 
»he  said,  and  hsr  convulsed  movements  proved  them 


St 


?; 


LORETTE. 


interval 

;  Then 
ins  will 

1  I  shall 
ill  sepa- 
pu  will 
,  by  be- 

2  in  ex- 
as  a  sis- 
nld  you 
"  She 
motions 
1  as  she 
ed  with 

are,  or 
3een  all 
:onstant 
rposed ; 
e,  I  ex- 
ids  and 
)u  both, 
nmself, 
y  upon 

but  at 
nsed  to 
,  1  will 

5ted,  it 
he  pro- 
iparted 
terable 
escap- 
"If  no 
;ipale," 
d  them 


29 

earth 


to  be  no  fiction,  "  I  would  fly  to  the  end  of  t 
and  suffer  every  possible  torture ;  trusting  in  the 
mercy  of  that  God  who  already  has  permitted  you 
once  to  deliver  me  from  going  down  to  the  pit,  and 
by  whose  blessing  upon  the  reading  of  his  word,"  for 
she  had  procured  a  Bible,  although  her  friends  under- 
stood not  her  meaning,  "I  begin  to  enjoy  some  hope  of 
his  pardoning  love.''  It  was  finally  resolved,  that  her 
place  of  abode  should  be  concealed,  and  all  acknow- 
ledgment of  any  present  acquaintance  with  her  be 
eluded,  by  a  reference  to  the  person  with  whom  she 
stopped  after  her  arrival  in  Quebec  from  Lorette.  So 
well  contrived  had  been  her  secret  departure,  that 
when  Diganu  and  Chretien  called  to  inquire  for 
Louise,  the  mistress  expressed  great  alarm  at  her  ab- 
sence, and  declared  her  total  ignorance  of  the  lime 
and  manner  of  her  disappearance.  To  that  nurse  it 
was  agreed,  therefore,  that  Chretien  should  direct  the 
surgeon ;  and  it  was  hoped  that  her  reply  to  the  call 
would  preclude  all  future  inquiry.  The  plot  partially 
succeeded;  for  when  Diganu  and  the  surgeon  applied 
to  the  nurse  with  whom  she  had  lodged,  ihe  woman 
unhesitatingly  affirmed,  "  that  Louise  had  escaped 
in  a  dark  night,  that  the  young  men  had  often  made 
inquiries  for  her,  and  that  she  could  never  discover 
any  trace  of  the  girl  since  that  day." 

But  who  can  fathom  the  depths  of  a  Jesuit  ?  Who 
can  comprehend  all  his  artifices,  malignity,  and  wiles  ? 
How  can  a  Roman  withstand  the  usurped  supremacy 
of  his  priest? — *  marked  diflference  was  manifest  in 
Diganu's  characier;  he  had  lost  his  thoughtless  hila- 
rity, and  was  distinguished  for  his  gravity,  attention 
to  business,  and  indifference  to  his  former  associates. 
This  change  was  imputed  by  the  ordinary  citizens  to 
his  love  of  money ;  but  the  crafty  priests  suspected 


>!!■' 


1^  LORETTG. 

some  other  motive,  and  instantly  resolved  to  penetrate 
the  secret.     Knowing  that  the  seasons  of  Canadian 
festive  amusement  and  of  social  merriment  are  the 
periods  when  men,  and  especially  youth,  are  most  un- 
guarded ;  they  hoped,  during  the  Christmas  carnaval 
to  ensnare  him  ,  but  Diganu  was  also  on  the  watch. 
Louise  had  been  able  to  communicate  to  him  a  very 
small  portion  only  of  evangelical  wisdom — yet  it  had 
induced  him  primarily  to  doubt,  then  to  disbelieve,  and 
finally  to  reject  all  the  vicious  catalogue  of  papal  tra- 
ditions ;  although  he  continued  to  exhibit  an  exterior 
respect  for  the  ceremonial  mummery  of  the  mass. 
The  priests  speedily  marked  him  as  a  person  "  sus- 
pected of  heretical  pravity,"  and  combined  to  entrap 
him.     As  a  tool  for  their  conspiracy,  they  employed 
the  mercenary  surgeon ;  and  a  strict  inspection  was 
constantly  maintained  upon  all  Diganu's  movements. 
On  New  Year's  day,  the  two  friends  resolved  to 
ride  to  Lorette,  and  there  to  retrace  the  events  of  the 
former  festival.     While  absent  on  their  excursion,  ihe 
surgeon  called,  under  the  pretext  of  presenting  the 
customary  salutation,  and  saw  Louise,  without  recog- 
nising her  in  the  specious  disguise,  or  rather  incon- 
gruous dress  which  she  always  wore  to  elude  the 
possibility  of  being  identified.   But  the  fact,  that  there 
was  a  servant  girl  living  with  Diganu  and  Chretien 
impelled  additional  inquiry,  and  it  was  determined  by 
the  priests  to  pursue  the  search.    Not  long  after,  the 
chaplain  of  the  Hospital  Nunnery  induced  the  woman 
with  whom  Louise  had  boarded  after  her  removal 
from  Lorette  to  Quebec,  to  enter  Diganu's  apartments 
during  his  absence ;  but  so  completely  altered  was 
Louise   by  her  uncouth   and  lowly  dress,  and  her 
assumed  ignorance  and  rusticity,  that  the  nurse  knew 
her  not ;  and  in  very  peremptory  terms  reported  to 


LORETTE. 


81 


jnetrate 
inadian 
are  the 
lost  un- 
arnaval 

watch. 

a  very 
t  it  had 
!ve,  and 
pal  tra- 
exterior 
)  mass. 
f»  "  sus- 
»  entrap 
iployed 
on  was 
ements. 
lived  to 
;  of  the 
ion,  the 
ing  the 

recog- 

inpon- 
ide  the 
It  there 
hrelien 
ined  by 
ter,  the 
woman 
emoval 
'tments 
id  was 
nd  her 
5  knev 

>rtGd  to 


fl 


her  priest,  "  there  is  not  the  smallest  resemblance  in 
any  respect  between  the  sweet  young  lady  who  was 
it)  my  house,  and  the  ugly  paysanne  whom  I  saw 
there."  Louise  instantly  perceived  that  the  object 
was  merely  to  ascertain  the  reality  of  her  residence 
with  her  friends  ;  and  thus  was  induced  to  consent 
without  further  hesitancy,  to  the  nuptial  union  pro- 
posed by  Diganu.  The  Lent  had  partly  elapsed,  and 
the  day  of  the  marriage  ceremony  was  fixed  for  the 
earliest  period  allowed  by  the  Koniish  canons.  At 
that  era  there  was  no  Protestant  minister  in  Que- 
bec. About  this  time,  a  strange  priest  entered  ihe 
house,  and  his  remarkable  appearance  not  only  at- 
tracted Diganu's  attention,  but  impressed  him  with 
deep  fearfulriess.  He  detailed,  with  all  minute  exact- 
ness, the  disappearance  of  a  young  novice  from  the 
care  of  the  Nuns  at  Point  aux  Trembles  ;  stated,  that 
she  had  been  traced  to  the  Indian  village  of  Lorette ; 
that  it  was  supposed,  she  had  there  been  robbed  and 
otherwise  ill  treated  ;  that  she  had  subsequently  been 
seen  in  Quebec ;  and  that  the  surgeon,  who  had  been 
sent  for,  to  visit  her,  had  affirmed,  that  Diganu  and 
another  young  man  named  Chretien,  who  dwelt  toge- 
ther, had  been  guilty  of  enticing  her  away  from  the 
protection  of  the  Religieuses  ;  and  that,  having  in- 
flicted upon  her  the  most  atrocious  injuries,  they  had 
discarded  her,  and  left  her  to  perish,  or  had  secretly 
murdered  their  victim.  While,  with  all  menacing 
indignation,  he  was  vehemently  unfolding  this  dread 
tale,  and  interminjiling  the  utmost  Jesuitical  finesse 
to  ensnare  Diganu,  Chretien  entered.  They  both 
denied  the  application  of  the  narrative,  in  whole  and 
in  part.  By  prior  concert,  the  surgeon  also  appeared ; 
and  confirmed  that  part  of  the  statement,  in  reference 
to  his  being  desired  by  Chretien  to  visit  a  young  fe* 


I! 

If 


r 


32 


LORETTE. 


male  who  was  discovered  at  Lorette  wounded,  and  in 
a  very  distressful  cond  tion.  The  surgeon  also  added — 
"  the  only  way  by  which  she  can  be  identified,  as 
the  squaws  informed  me,  is  by  a  small  cross  imme- 
diately at  the  top  of  her  forehead."  At  the  mention 
of  this  particular  mark,  the  Pretre  fixed  upon  Diganu 
one  of  those  withering  portentous  looks  which  a  Jesuit 
or  a  Dominican  only  can  infuse  into  the  human  coun- 
tenance. The  attempt  was  vain ;  for  it  excited  no 
alarm  ;  and  from  conscious  innocence,  the  two  friends 
betrayed  not  the  least  emotion.  "  Ah '"  said  the 
Priest,  "I  perceive  that  you  are  hardened  in  year 
iniquity,  and  hope  to  escape  the  censures  of  the 
church,  and  the  arm  of  justice;  but  to  let  you  know 
that  I  am  acquainted  with  all  your  secrets,"  and  he 
uttered  a  tremendous  oath,  "  remember  the  cross  on 
thy  own  head  ;  thou  disguised  heretic  !" — He  arose, 
and  without  another  word,  accompanied  by  the  sur- 
geon, instantly  departed. 

There  was  a  cold-blooded,  malignant  apathy  in  the 
voice  and  countenance  of  the  priest,  the  chilling eflfects 
of  which,  all  their  efforts  to  resume  fortitude  couldjiot 
repel.  The  painful  sensations  which  they  realised, 
were  forcibly  aggravated  by  Louise,  who  entered  soor) 
after  the  disappearance  of  the  priest,  and  whose  fea» 
tures  wofully  displayed  all  the  anguish  which  lace- 
rated her  soul.  "  1  am  lost' — I  am  lost,"  at  length 
she  said,  in  a  fearful  tone,  "  it  is  all  ended — nothing 
can  save  me." 

Every  attempt  to  sooth  her  was  vain  ;  and  the  only 
thing  which  in  any  measure  iippeared  to  assure  her, 
was  the  reiterated  promise  by  Chretien,  that  death  or 
irresistible  lawlei^s  violence  alone  should  separate  her 
from  Diganu.  She  requested  again  to  examine  the 
cross  to  which  the  priest  adverted,  and  having  beheld 


LORETTfi. 


83 


it  for  a  moment,  she  recoiled  with  terror — "  Rely  upon 
it,  Diganu,"  she  uttered,  apparently  almost  sufforaied, 
•*  we  shall  never  be  united."  Chretien  again  at- 
tempted to  appease  her  heart-rending  distress  and  his 
friend's  agony,  with  this  consolation, — •'  Fear  not," 
said  he,  "  force  only  shall  derange  the  plans  to  which 
you  have  consented."  Diganu  also  avowed  his  un- 
alterable resolution  to  sacrifice  every  thing  in  her  de- 
fence, provided  Louise  would  confide  to  him  the  cause 
of  her  sorrows  and  anxieties.  As  it  had  been  arranged 
that  they  should  be  married  at  Lorette,  she  promised, 
on  the  last  night  prior  to  their  union,  should  it  occur, 
to  divulge  to  him  and  to  Chretien  her  previous  history. 
When  Chretien  went  to  Lorette  to  acquaint  the 
priest  of  the  Indian  village  of  his  desired  attendance 
to  perform  the  ceremony,  and  when  Diganu's  name 
was  mentioned  as  the  bridegroom  ;  a  ghastly  expres- 
sive leer  filled  the  face  of  the  priest,  which  to  the 
youth  portended  no  good  to  his  friends.  Upon  his 
return  to  Quebec,  he  therefore  strongly  remonstrated 
against  the  place,  the  time,  and  the  priest;  and  dis- 
suaded them  from  waiting  until  that  day,  and  much 
more  from  proceeding  to  Lorette,  for  the  solemniza- 
tion of  their  nuptials.  Louise,  however,  determined 
those  points,  by  remarking — ''\{  we  are  to  be  united, 
the  time,  place,  or  priest  makes  no  diflference.  Such 
is  the  intimate  connexion  and  secret  understandinsf 
among  them  all,  that  if  any  deed  of  darkness,  which 
I  have  too  much  reason  to  dread,  is  to  be  performed, 
I  should  prefer  Lorette  to  any  other  spot  for  the  execu- 
tion of  their  wicked  purposes.  To  escape  out  of  the 
province  is  impossible.  It  is  therefore  of  no  impor- 
tance ;  for  if  Divine  Providence  interposes  on  my  be- 
half, it  will  be  every  v^'here ;  and  if  1  am  to  bs  sacri- 
ficcdi  the  Lord's  will  be  done."  -^ 

0* 


m 


^r 


:M< 


i 


f 


r 


34 


LOBETTE< 


Her  alarm  and  resignation,  the  conjunction  of  which 
neither  Diganu  nor  Chretien  could  accurately  com- 
prehend, aggravated  their  disquietude  and  anxiety, 
which  were  not  alleviated  by  their  perceiving  that  a 
strange  priest,  with  his  unknown  companion,  seemed 
to  be  constantly  watching  all  their  motions.  Those 
spies  frequently  passed  the  house,  stopped  when  near 
it,  and  appeared  to  be  prying  keenly  as  if  to  discover 
all  their  concerns  and  visiters ;  and  they  were  also 
noticed  not  to  cease  their  scrutiny  even  after  the  day 
liad  ended. 

On  the  third  day  prior  to  the  intended  marriage, 
■while  pursuing  their  business,  Diganu  and  Chretien 
fancied  that  they  had  seen  in  the  street,  one  of  the 
Indian  women  who  had  nursed  Louise  during  her 
sickness  at  Lorette ;  and  were  strangely  agitated  at 
their  dinner,  when  they  were  informed  by  Louise,  that 
the  squaw  had  forced  herself  unceremoniously  into  the 
house  ;  and,  notwithstanding  every  attempt  to  conceal 
herself,  and  to  elude  recognition,  that  the  Indian  wo- 
man had  gone  away,  resolutely  maintaining  that  she 
was  the  very  same  person  who  had  been  found  at 
Lorette,  and  that  she  knew  her  in  her  disguise.  Fa- 
tuity itself  could  not  possibly  suppose,  from  the  pecu- 
liar season  of  her  rude  visit  to  an  unknown  dwelling, 
that  this  rencontre  was  either  fortuitous  or  uninten- 
tional. Diganu  and  Chretien  both  urged  Louise  to 
change  the  place  where  the  ceremony  should  be  per- 
formed. She  remained  inflexible  on  that  point ;  assur- 
ing them,  as  she  said,  *'  the  result  will  not  be  altered 
by  any  scheme  which  we  can  devise  or  effect ;  and  I 
am  convinced,  when  you  shall  have  heard  my  tale, 
your  opinions  and  mine  will  perfectly  agree." 

The  parties  met  at  the  close  of  the  last  day;  for 
Louise  had  expressly  stipulated  thai  Chretien  should 


LOSETTE.  m 

1)6  present;  and,  to  their  profound  astonishment,  she 
was  arrayed  in  the  same  dress  in  which  they  had  first 
beheld  her.  Diganu  and  his  friend  were  deeply  af- 
fected. The  former  fell  entirely  enervated  with  the 
weight  of  his  recollections,  his  fears,  and  his  expecia- 
tions.  *'  You  will  excuse  my  cloihing,"  said  the  limid 
sobbing  girl,  "  it  will  be  my  bridal  array  ;  and  it  was 
the  most  suitable  for  me  to  appear  in,  while  unfolding 
the  causes  of  our  first  meeting,  with  all  its  pleasing 
,and  painful  consequences." 

Diganu  seated  himself  by  her  side.  As  he  took 
her  hand,  she  leaned  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  "you 
must  not  look  at  me,"  she  remarked,  "  while  I  tell  you 
my  short  but  sorrowful  history.  Our  relative  situation 
requires  this  sacrifice  of  my  feelings  in  honour  and 
duty  to  you;  and  the  care,  tenderness,  delicacy,  and 
aflfection  which  you  both  have  ever  manifested  towards 
me  encourages  this  confidence  in  you.  If  we  are  for- 
cibly separated,"  and  a  sigh,  which  escaped  from 
each,  expressed  their  mutual  anxiety,  "my  tale  will 
teach  you  to  lament  your  lost  companion  ;  and  if  we 
should  be  united,  it  will  prove  that  you  may  ever 
confide  in  the  sincerity  and  faithful  attachment  of 
your  Louise." 

During  the  pause  which  ensued,  while  Louise  was 
endeavouring  to  summon  fortitude  for  the  detail  which 
her  friends  were  so  anxiously  expecting,  a  knock  was 
heard  at  the  door.  Chretien  answered  the  call;  and 
returned  with  a  letter  for  Diganu.  Upon  examining 
the  superscription,  it  developed  a  female's  chirogra- 
phy.  Louise  had  no  sooner  glanced  at  the  envelop, 
than  she  was  seized  with  an  involuntary  convulsive 
shuddering.  When  the  fit  had  partially  subsided,  she 
faintly  articulated,  "  I  know  that  writing  and  seal. 
I  have  seen  it  once  before.    It  is  the  harbinger  of  my 


y 


tORETTfi. 

misery."  After  a  long  pause,  with  the  profound  si- 
lence of  her  two  friends,  she  added,  **  but  1  bless  God, 
that  if  he  permits  my  tormentors  to  make  me  wretched, 
he  has  given  me  grace  to  resist  all  their  arts  to  render 
me  criminal."  Diganu  having  read  the  letter,  pre- 
sented it  to  Chretien  for  his  perusal.  During  this 
interval,  the  former  impatiently  traversed  the  room, 
absorbed  in  thought;  and  when  his  friend  restored 
him  the  ominous  scroll,  he  motioned  his  hand  that 
Louise  might  inspect  its  mysterious  contents.  Both 
were  too  overpowered  to  speak.  Louise  examined 
the  sheet  with  varying  features  ;  and  when  her  first 
powerful  excitement  had  passed  away,  she  was  less 
agitated  than  could  have  been  supposed.  Her  feelings 
speedily  assumed  the  character  of  a  settled  purpose  to 
submit,  with  all  poss^ible  fortitude,  to  the  calamity 
which,  in  her  judgment,  was  clearly  inevitable.  At 
length,  she  thus  interrupted  the  silence.  "  My  sensi- 
bilities always  told  me,  Diganu.that  you  were  indulg- 
ing chimerical  hopes  respecting  our  union  ;  and  how- 
ever unaccountable  the  fact,  my  affection  for  you  is  of 
a  totally  different  quality  from  that  which,  nature  dic- 
tates to  me,  I  should  have  felt  for  Chretien,  had  cir- 
cumstances and  our  mutual  inclinations  induced  him 
to  have  made  me  a  proffer  of  his  hand  and  heart.  But 
it  is  now  too  late  to  reverse  the  past ;  and  not  less 
impossible  to  change  the  manifest  certainties  of  the 
future." 

Before  Louise  commenced  her  narrative,  Chretien 
proposed  to  discuss  the  contents  of  the  letter,  and  to 
decide  upon  its  intimations.  .  - 

DlGANU. 

You  are  surrounded  with  dangers.  It  has  been  as« 
certained  that  you  have  living  with  you  a  young  wo- 
man called  Louise ;  and  that  you  are  to  be  married 


LORSTTE. 


37 


ound  $!• 
pss  God, 
retched, 
3  render 
ter,  pre- 
ing  this 
e  room, 
restored 
md  that 
.  Both 
Kaniined 
her  first 
vns  less 
feelings 
rpose  to 
calamity 
ble.  At 
y  sensi- 
indulg- 
fid  how- 
^ou  is  of 
ure  die- 
had  cir- 
ced  him 
irt.  But 
not  less 
>  of  the 

/hretien 
,  and  to 


)een  as* 
ng  wo- 
narricd 


after  Easter.  She  never  can  be  your  wife.  Poor 
wretches!  You  are  in  a  labyrinth,  and  cannot  be 
extricated.  The  only  mode  of  escape  would  be  by 
fleeing  from  the  province;  but  that  now  is  impossible. 
You  are  watched  by  day  and  by  night;  and  ai)y  at- 
tempt to  elope  would  ensure  your  own  death,  with  that 
of  Louise  and  your  friend  Chretien.  Not  only  would 
you  all  three  be  murdered,  but  no  vestige  of  you 
would  be  found,  and  no  inquiry  would  be  made  after 
you.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  it.  You  and  Louise 
shall  be  separated.  If  you  do  not  present  yourselves 
for  the  marriage  ceren)ony  as  proposed,  Louise  will 
be  taken  from  your  house  on  that  evenifjg  by  force, 
and  the  consequences  of  altemptittg  to  protect  her,  will 
be  horrible.  But  remember,  if  you  proceed  to  Loreite 
to  be  united,  she  will  be  taken  from  you  at  the  altar. 
Do  not  offend  the  priests.  Believe  what  they  tell  you. 
Do  jurst  as  they  say,  and  all  will  yet  be  well." 

*'Stopl  Chretien,"  said  Louise  hastily,  *•  let  me  think 
for  a  moment."  After  a  pause,  she  thus  continued, 
"  those  are  the  very  words  which  were  in  the  letter 
that  I  received  in  the  same  hand  writing.  There 
must  be  some  wonderful  mystery  in  this  matter." 

Chretien  proceeded  to  read,  "It  is  of  no  use  to  re- 
sist. You  will  thereby  only  injure  yourself,  increase 
sorrow  for  Louise,  and  involve  your  friend  in  distress. 
Louise  has  offended  the  Church.  She  is  strongly 
suspected  to  be  a  heretic.  Some  time  ago,  she  was 
excommunicated.  She  will  have  to  undergo  very 
deep  penance,  before  she  will  be  restored  to  the  bo- 
som of  ouriioly  mother." 

Louise  could  jiiot  restrain  her  Christian  indignation. 
"All  the  plagues  pronounced  in  the  eighteenth  chap- 
ter *of  the  Revelation  be  upon  your  holy  mother!'* 
she  proclaimed  with  great  energy,  "iharjks  be  unto 


i' 


Mi 


^ 


LOnETTG> 


God,  I  despise  your  excommunications;  and  as  for 
your  deceitful  penance,  I  would  rather  brave  the  mar 
tyr's  fire  than  join  in  your  abominations  and  idola- 
try."— "Not  so  fast,"  interposed  Chretien,  "  how  can 
you,  an  inexperienced  solitary  girl  set  up  your  judg- 
ment against  the  infallibility  of  the  Roman  Church 
and  his  holiness  the  pope  V — "  Nonsense!"  retorted 
Louise,  "  they  axe  infallible  in  nothings  but  impiety 
and  wickednes-s.  Pardon  my  interruption;  this  is  no 
time  for  religious  discussion;  but  I  could  not  repress 
the  sudden  excitement  of  my  contemptuous  feelings, 
for  such  a  base  effort  to  outrage  niy  Christian  princi- 
ples, and  disgrace  my  pen~onal  character." 

Chretien  pursued  his  rt.  ''ing. — "  You  also  are  be- 
ginning to  be  suspected  of  ht.  "',  because  you  have 
encouraged  her.  She  has  greai  .  ns  to  atone  for  in 
disobeying  the  priesis.  She  has  lost  tne  benefit  of  the 
cross  on  her  forehead  by  departing  from  the  church. 
Take  care;  for  by  receiving  her  opinions,  you  will 
blot  out  the  cross  on  your  own  head,  and  thus  rush 
into  misery.  You  know  that  if  we  do  not  do  as  the 
priests  order  us,  we  shnll  not  have  their  pardon  and 
unction  when  we  die;  nor  shall  we  obtain  the  comfort 
of  their  masses  in  another  world*  Be  upon  your 
guard.  Give  up  Louise  at  once,  peaceably.  Take 
care  of  yourself.  Keep  away  from  heretics.  Hearkeu 
to  the  priests;  and  then  you  will  be  happy. 

This  reference  to  the  crosses  imprinted  upon  Louise 
and  Diganu,  rendered  the  information  conveyed  by 
their  anonymous  correspondent  more  alarming — be- 
cause it  assuredly  implied  an  acquaintance  with  Louise 
and  Diganu  and  their  prior  life,  of  the  very  early  parts 
of  which  they  themselves  were  altogether  ignorant. 
The  ouly  particuW  which  either  Diganu  or  Louise 


had 


LOR&TTB. 


30 


'\  as  for 
he  mar 
d  idoln* 
low  ran 
ir  judgf. 
Church 
reloried 
impiety 
lis  is  no 

repress 
eelings, 

princi- 

are  be- 

[)u  have 

e  for  in 

it  of  the 

church. 

ou  will 

us  rush 

I  as  the 

on  and 

comfort 

your 

Take 

earkeii 


n 


•  «  • 

Louise 
yed  by 
ff — be- 
Louise 
y  parts 
riorant. 
Louise 


had  ever  explained  to  each  other,  was  in  reference  to 
the  expression  of  Louise,  when  the  proposal  of  mar- 
riage was  so  abruptly  but  formally  made,  and  when 
she  described  herself  as  a  "  wretched  orphan."  On  a 
subsequent  occasion,  Diganu  remarked,  "  this  can  be 
no  objection.  I  am  an  orphan  too ;  and  never  knew 
what  the  intercourse  or  feelings  of  friendship  and  af- 
fection were,  except  with  you  and  Chretien." 

When  he  had  concluded  the  lettc.;,  Chretien  remark- 
ed, "  We  cannot  live  long  in  this  stale  of  alarm  and 
uncertainty;  but  the  alternatives  seem  so  dreadful, 
that  of  .the  three,  I  am  inclined  to  adopt  the  plan  of 
self-defence  :  to  delay  your  marriage  for  a  short  period, 
to  provide  a  safeguard,  and  to  keep  as  much  in  the 
house  as  possible."  Diganu  observed,  "This  plan  is 
impracticable.  Duty  often  calls  me  from  home;  you 
are  generally  away  during  the  hours  of  business ;  in 
whom  could  we  confide  ?"  "  Nobody,"  answered 
Chretien,  "  but  what  do  you  think  of  an  application 
to  the  Governor?"  "The  Governor?"  exclaimed 
Louise,  "he  would  not  dare  to  do  any  thing  in  refe- 
rence to  the  matter,  except  as  the  bishop  and  the 
priests  direct.  Besides  the  continual  alarms  and  fears 
would  be  more  afflictive  than  the  reality.  One  is  sud- 
den calamity ;  the  other  would  be  never-ending  bitter- 
ness, with  additional  danger  in  the  end,  for  no  advan- 
tage.!' Chretien  however  was  dissatisfied,  and  again 
inquired,  "  Is  there  not  one  person  to  be  trusted  ?"  "  I 
believe  not,"  replied  Diganu,  "  who  bears  a  higher 
character  for  honour  than  the  Doctor?  and  yet  cir- 
cumstances convince  me  that  he  has  been  the  main- 
spring of  this  treacherous  plot  against  us.  Besides, 
could  I  even  trust  in  your  fidelity,  Chretien,  if  the 
pretre  ordered  you  to  betray  us?"' 

The  questioQ  was  apropos*    His  unreserved  sub* 


'•it: 


'»« 


ifiiiH 


iPr 


in> 


40 


LORETTE. 


jection  to  a  Jesuit;  the  endeared  claims  of  friendship 
from  childhood ;  and  the  sacred  oblig-ations  of  honour 
and  duty,  all  were  here  at  once  arrayed  together  in 
direct  collision.     Louise  half  smiled  in  her  tears,  as 
she  contemplated  the  internal  conflict  which  agitated 
Chretien.     With  great  embarrassment,  after  a  long 
pause,  he  replied,  "  You  know,  Diganu,  I  could  not 
disobey  the  priest  without  risking  the  salvation  of  my 
soul." — '*  Very  well !"   rejoined  Diganu,   **  we  are 
bound  together  by  worldly  interests,  by  long  confi- 
dential familiarity,    by   domestic  residence,   and  by 
almost  brotherly  ties — and  yet  if  that  pretre  who  was 
here  before,  came  and  demanded  Louise  during  my 
absence,  you  would  give  her  into  his  power;  or,  if  he 
now  entered  with  some  ruffians  to  seize  her  by  force, 
instead  of  resisting  him  and  defending  me,  you  would 
unite  with  him  at  his  command  to  rob  me  of  my 
greatest  earthly  comfort."    "  No,  no,  indeed !"  an- 
swered his  astonished  friend,  startled  at  this  picture 
of  treachery  and  priestly  despotism,  "  I  could  not  be- 
tray and  desert  you  !" — ■  Ah,  my  friend  !"  remarked 
Louise,  /ery  tenderly,  "you  know  not  yourself.  Much 
as  I  respect  your  principles  and  spirit ;  I  know  your 
frailty  in  this  point.     You  would  not  consider  your- 
self in  that  case  as  perfidious  or  cruel.     It  would  be 
a  mere  fulfilment  of  a  duty  consecrated  by  your  fan- 
cied religion  in  its  most  authoritative  claims.     I  can- 
not trust  you.     It  would  certainly  destroy  Diganu, 
and  only  endanger  yourself."    Chretien  appeared  to 
be  vexed  at  her  suspicions  and  want  of  confidence, 
"  Be  not  displeased,"  she  subjoined,  kindly  offering 
him  her  hand,  "  I  judge  from  myself.    Three  years 
since,  I  should  as  readily  have  obeyed  a  priest's  com- 
mand in  every  thing,  as  I  should  now  obstinately  re- 
fuse to  comply  with  it." — '*  Louise  is  correct,  remark- 


Ififill 


LORETTE. 


41 


iendship 
r  honour 
ether  in 
tears,  as 
agitated 
'  a  long 
3uld  not 
)n  of  my 
we  are 
ig  confi- 
and  by 
who  was 
ring  my 
or,  if  he 
by  force, 
)u  would 
e  of  my 
3d !"  an- 
3  picture 
i  not  be- 
Tiarked 

Much 
)w  your 
er  your- 
vould  be 
'our  fan- 

I  can- 
Diganu, 
eared  to 
ifidence, 
offering 
ee  years 
it's  com- 
itely  re- 
remark- 


ei. 


ed  Diganu,  "  twelve  months  ago,  I  am  certain  that 
there  is  no  action,  however  wicked,  which  could  have 
been  committed  without  the  certainty  of  an  ignomi- 
nious punishment  by  law,  that  I  should  not  have 
performed,  if  the  pretre  had  enjoined  it.  I  should 
have  risked  any  thing  to  fulfil  his  orders,  confident 
that  he  was  able  to  save  me  from  all  trouble." 

In  this  declaration,  Chretien  acquiesced ;  and  Louise 
therefore  speedily  convinced  them,  that  it  was  prefer- 
able for  one  to  suffer  than  all ;  that  her  condition  at 
the  worst  could  not  be  more  afflictive  and  perilous, 
than  when  they  first  saw  her ;  that  it  would  only  ag- 
gravate her  sorrows  to  know  that  her  beloved  friends 
were  also  exposed  to  the  priest's  ruthless  spile;  that 
it  was  far  more  safe  to  terminate  their  perplexities 
without  delay;  that  if  their  fears  were  unauthorized, 
their  future  comfort  would  only  be  increased  after 
their  disquietudes  had  vanished;  and  that,  therefore,'to 
Lorette  they  would  proceed  in  the  morning  as  already 
arranged. 

The  interruption  occasioned  by  the  letter,  and  the 
subsequent  conversation  had  partially  siiengthened 
Louise  for  her  promii:ed  engagement.  From  the  ac- 
quiescence of  her  friends  in  her  decision,  she  had  felt 
encouraged  ;  and  silently  casting  all  her  raves  upon 
God  whocareth  for  those  who  trust  in  him,  and  men- 
tally invoking  his  grace  and  protection;  uhe  once 
more  composed  herself  by  the  side  of  Diganu  to  nar- 
tr'*T  her  former  experience.  t 


,:,fjt,-l 

• 

)  • 

...                              • 

1    ., ., ;  i'f 

\\i    ;'■ 

•   .-fUV.  t 

- '  , 

.1    ' . ' 

v-ta  vi* 

:  y  a . 

rwri*:*.- 

n 


m 


^ 


f 


KUinimipiliJ  iiji.  ju  ju  u,»i  I 


43 


LORETTB. 


i 


NARRATIVE  BY  LOUISE. 

At  last,  while  bitter  tears  I  shed, 

To  heaven  I  raised  my  prayer, 
And  found,  when  earthly  joys  are  fled, 

There  still  is  comfort  there. 

I  AM  totally  ignorant,  Louise  stated,  of  my  pa- 
rents, my  birth-place,  and  my  age.  I  was  neve'*  a.^ 
dressed  except  as  Louise;  and  never  permitiei  :o 
assume  any  name  but  Louise  M.  My  earliest  reco*- 
lection  is  connected  with  Point  aux  Trembles.  I  re- 
member a  farmer's  wife  with  whom  I  lived  ;  and  also 
a  nun,  who  often  came  to  the  house,  and  engaged  my 
childish  attachment,  by  giving  me  trinkets  and  sweet- 
meats. I  was  early  taught  to  read,  write,  and  sew, 
by  this  nun  ;  and  continued  there,  after  my  first  im- 
pressions, about  four  years,  when  I  was  sent  to  the 
Ursuline  Nunnery  at  Quebec,  and  was  duly  instructed 
in  every  art  which  is  th'ere  used.  My  old  friend,  the 
nun,  I  saw  very  frequently  ;  hut  as  I  grew  up,  she 
appeared  to  feel  little  or  no  interest  in  me.  I  made 
tolerable  proficiency,  and  was  declared  rather  tall  and 
womanish  for  my  age,  which  wa^  never  communicated 
to  me.  I  consider  myself  however  to  be  about  twenty 
years  old. 

It  is  now  nearly  f  ve  years  ago,  that  I  was  remo^ved 
back  to  Point  aux  Trembles,  and  was  employed-  for 
two  years  in  a  variety  of  offices  about  that  establish- 
ment of  the  Religieuses.  During  this  period  my  mind 
was  in  constant  training  by  the  nuns  and  the  pretres. 
The  whole  course  of  the  ceremonies,  and  all  the  exact 
routine  of  the  forms  of  the  Missal,  I  attended  with 
the  most  scrupulous  regularity,  and  ^he  ieniit  known 
deviation  would  have  made  ma  v/v«tCiie«^o     To  the 


J 


LORETTt. 


43 


my  pa- 
Bvc^  a.' 

si  reci>'' 
.  1  re- 
Eind  also 
aged  my 
d  svveet- 
nd  sew, 
first  im- 
t  to  the 
structed 
end,  the 
up,  she 
I  made 
tall  and 
jnicated 
,  twenty 

■emoved 
>yed'  for 
stablish- 
ny  mind 
pretres. 
he  exact 
ed  with 
I  known 
To  the 


authority  of  the  holy  church,  and  to  the  lofty  charac- 
ter and  godlike  power  of  the  priests  to  command,  par- 
don, save,  and  curse  the  people  here  and  forever,  I 
boned  down  with  the  most  implicit  belief,  and  with 
the  completest  submission;  and  with  a  full  persuasion 
thnt  in  complying  wiih  the  pretre's  wishes^•,  I  was  ful- 
filling the  law  of  God.  Hints  were  ofien  given  me  ihat 
I  must  become  a  nun;  and  the  ^Juperior  virtue  atid 
wonderful  sanctity  of  that  mode  of  life  were  constantly 
set  before  me  in  the  most  enchanting  colours.  The 
third  year  of  my  residence  had  nearly  elapsed  ;  and 
it  wa*  proposed,  that  the  next  year  should  be  devoted 
by  me  to  those  pursuits  which  would  enable  me  to 
enter  upon  my  noviciate,  and  speedily  to  attain  the 
honours,  as  they  impiously  term  it,  of  the  *^  angelic** 
life.  It  was  at  this  crisis,  that  the  change  in  mv  little 
affliirs  occurred  which  has  been  so  externally  afflictive, 
(and  so  consolatory  in  heart. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  convent,  resided  an 
oVl  decropid  woman  who  had  migrated  from  Guernsey. 
^h-"'  was  liitle  known  ,  and  her  age  and  infirmities  and 
fsciated  condition  excused  her  from  much  intercourse 
,'  nh  the  neighbouring  people.  I  was  often  sent  to 
\;^' ,  her,  to  inquire  into  her  condition,  and  to  carry 
her  trtfling  articles  of  clothing  and  food.  She  gra- 
dually declined  ;  and  it  was  clearly  perceptible,  that 
her  decease  was  not  very  distant.  On  one  occasion 
when  we  were  alone,  "My  dear!"  said  Maiguerite, 
"  I  hear  bad  news  concerning  vou."  "  What  do  vou 
mean  !"  was  my  reply.  "I  am  told,"  she  continued, 
^'  that  you  are  going  into  the  nunnery,  after  a  Jiiile 
while;  and  I  am  sorry  for  it."  "Whyl''  I  asked, 
"they  say  that  a  nun  passes  the  most  holy,  peaceful 
and  heavenly  life  possible." — "  Ah  !  my  dear,"  she 
Uttered  with  much  feeling,  '^  you  are  entirely  mistaken* 


■  XX 


n 


4 


I 


[  i 

; 
( 
I     i 

\      I 


44 


LORETTE. 


It  is  the  most  miserable  and  the  most  guilty  life  in 
the  world." — "  How  can  that  be  ?"  I  inquired,  "  What 
do  you  know  of  convents'?" — "I  was  born  in  France," 
she  replied,  "I  have  seen  much  of  the  world;  and  if 
you  will  not  tell  my  history  to  any  person  until  after 
I  am  buried,  you  shall  hear  something  which  Mar- 
guerite r '^  "'^en."  The  promise  was  made.  '*  I  was 
formerly  ^  for  many  years,"  the  old  woman  inform- 
ed me,  "  a  menial  servant  about  a  convent  in  France, 
and  the  evils  which  were  practised  within  its  walls 
exceed  all  belief.  At  last,  I  began  to  consider  whe- 
ther it  were  povssible  for  a  religion  to  be  true  and  from. 
God,  which  allowed  such  wicked  doings.  Ah!"  said 
the  emaciated  Christian,  with  all  the  energy  which  she 
was  capable  to  exert.  "Ah  !  those  Jesuit  priests ;  if 
there  is  a  devil  upon  earth,  they  are  he.  I  contrived 
to  leave  Normandy,  and  cross  over  to  Guernsey ;  and 
there  I  resided,  untiM  came  to  this  country.  I  have 
been  among  the  same  people  in  Canada.  They  are 
all  alike,  not  quite  so  bad  here,  because  they  are  more 
scattered,  among  fewer  people,  easier  noticed,  and  a 
little  afraid  of  the  protestant  government." 

My  prejudices,  remarked  Louise,  as  you  may  well 
suppose,  were  all  excited ;  and  in  my  heart,  I  wished 
the  old  widow  every  possible,  curse.  She  sftw  my 
opinions  in  my  wrathful  countenance,  and  allayed  my 
anger  by  her  remarks,  "You  dislike  to  hear  these 
things  now,"  said  Marguerite,  "  so  did  I  once.  I  had 
been  taught  by  my  mother,  that  the  priest  was  in 
God's  place;  that  the  pope  had  the  command  of  hea- 
ven, earth,  and  hell ;  and  that  the  abbes,  the  cures, 
and  the  pretres  must  be  feared  and  obeyed  in  every 
thing,  or  we  should  be  miserable  in  this  world  and  in 
the  next.  Thus  I  grew  up  to  maturity,  as  docile  and 
as  submissive  to  the  priest  as  my  neighbours;  and 


LORETTB. 


4S 


guilty  life  in 
ired,  "  What 
1  in  France," 
^orld ;  and  if 
m  until  after 
which  Mar- 
ide.  "  I  was 
man  inform- 
It  in  France, 
lin  its  walls 
nsider  whe- 
ue  and  from 
.  Ah!"  said 
yy  which  she 
it  priests;  if 
I  contrived 
srnsey;  and 
ry.  I  have 
.  They  are 
»ey  are  more 
Jiiced,  and  a 

3u  may  well 
irt,  I  wished 
•he  sftw  my 
allayed  my 
hear  these 
3nce.  I  had 
iest  was  in 
land  of  hea- 
5,  the  cures, 
ed  in  every 
'orld  and  in 
5  docile  and 
ibours;  and 


Tike  them,  not  less  self-willed  and  disobedient  towards 
Ood.  When  a  young  woman,  I  was  in  the  service 
of  a  gentleman  who  never  went  to  mass  or  confession. 
He  was  a  rich  man  ;  and  the  priest  allowed  him  a  con- 
stant dispensation  for  disobeying  all  the  laws  of  the 
church  for  a  good  sum  of  money,  which  was  paid 
every  year.  1  have  ofien  heard  him  tell  among  his 
friends  when  they  visited  him,  in  what  way  the  priests 
maintained  their  power  and  hoodwinked  the  people. 
It  is  almost  all  done  at  confession,  and  through  the 


Childi 


ht  fn 


ifancv,ths 


women.  V^hildren  are  taugtit  irom  their  ]nlancy,thai 
all  persons  out  of  the  church  will  be  accursed.  The 
boys  are  retained  in  bondage,  by  ignorance,  or  fear, 
or  interest,  or  their  connexions,  or  indifference,  or  cor- 
ruption and  participation  in  crime;  for  as  they  can 
buy  absolution  for  all  sins,  they  can  practise  every 
vice,  and  by  a  liiile  morjey,  or  by  serving  the  priests, 
they  can  blot  out  all  the  account  against  them.  But 
even  all  these  schemes  would  not  complete  the  design, 
without  the  aid  of  the  women.  They  are  therefore 
trained  with  all  care  into  passive  obedience  and  non- 
resistanre  to  the  priest.  They  are  made  to  believe 
that  every  thing  is  true  which  he  says,  and  that  every 
thing  is  proper  which  he  desires.  This  dreadfully 
wicked  doctrine  is  sanctioned  by  the  assurance,  that 
he  can  pardon  every  sin  ;  and  thai  without  his  good 
will,  no  person  will  go  to  heaven.  Under  this  influ- 
ence, the  women  are  all  entangled.  The  priest,  by 
confession, discovers  all  their  inclinaljons and  thoughts. 
He  then  holds  the  rod  over  them  to  force  them  to  his 
own  ungodly  purposes.  Ah  I  my  dear,  take  care. 
Watch  around  you.  Look  at  every  thing.  Do  not 
he  afraid  to  examine  for  yourself.  Above  all  things, 
never  become  a  nun.  In  my  country,  the  pretres  tell 
woodeiful  stories  about  the  convents  j  and  unless  I 


*<* 


^f 


JT. 


il 


■1 

1 

n'%    tU      ^' 

^j-''M^ 

h~  ^W-.   ^^H 

Wim  '' 

F':      »         ^ 

P      "1         ' 

'I--  1    : 

46 


HPUJP,  li*»  >  i.njp(jj55^|BW!W"  MM!' ""I  itj^.ttm 


LORETTE. 


am  mistaken,  many  a  dismal,  wicked,  and  bloody 
history  would  be  found  out  in  Canada,  if  all  the 
priests  were  not  in  a  league  to  help  each  other,  and 
keep  their  mutual  secrets.  They  first  make  the  vvo« 
men  sinners,  and  then  so  frighten  them,  that  they 
dare  not  expose  their  scandalous  practices.  Once  a 
modest  young  woman  used  lo  come  here,  who  went 
into  a  nunnery  by  the  order 'of  two  priests,  after  she 
had  a  child  by  each  of  them.  What  is  become  of 
them,  I  never  could  hear ;  but  the  last  time  I  saw 
her,  she  was  one  of  the  worst  and  most  impudent 
creatures,  I  ever  heard  talk." 

At  this  part  of  Marguerite's  narrative,  said  Louise, 
my  attention  was  deeply  arrested ;  for  I  fancied  that 
I  could  perceive  a  resemblance  in  this  trait,  between 
the  nun  who  so  many  years  before  had  been  so  kind 
to  me,  and  her  demeanour  at  our  last  interview.  The 
feeble  Christian  woman  continued,  '"I  left  the  Roman 
church  in  Guernsey.  As  I  have  always  been  ailing, 
and  nobody  cared  much  about  me,  I  have  contrived 
to  live  here  without  being  discovered  and  persecuted. 
My  dear,  how  old  are  you.?"  To  this  question,  I 
could  only  answer,  I  have  never  heard,  I  cannot  tell. 
"  Then  it  is  as  I  have  long  suspected,"  added  Mar- 
guerite. "  You  are  just  now  at  the  right  age,  and 
hold  the  very  fittest  sentiments  to  be  the  subject  for  a 
priest's  stratagem.  Hearken  to  a  dying  woman,  who 
can  have  no  interest  in  deceiving  you ;  I  may  not 
have  strength  or  another  opportunity  to  give  you  my 
advice.  When  a  priest  offers  to  violate  your  modesty, 
whether  by  force,  or  by  enticement,  or  by  his  pre- 
tended priestly  authority,  or  by  Jesuitical  finesse  ;  at- 
tempting to  persuade  you  that  vice  is  virtue,  or  to 
palliate  sin  under  the  pretext  of  his  power  to  absolve 
you,  and  his  ability  to  render  you  as  pure  as  if  you 


^ 


r 


LORETTE. 


47 


,  and  bloody 
da,  if  all  the 
ich  other,  and 
make  the  vvo- 
tn,  that  they 
ces.  Once  a 
re,  who  went 
3sts,  after  she 
is  become  of 
time  I  saw 
ost  impudent 

said  Louise, 

fancied  that 
rait,  between 
been  so  kind 
erview.  The 
*t  the  Roman 

been  ailing", 
ve  contrived 
1  persecuted, 
i  question,  I 

cannot  tell, 
added  Mar- 
[■ht  age,  and 
subject  for  a 
voman,  who 

I  may  not 
^ive  you  my 
ur  modesty, 
by  his  pre- 
finesse ;  at- 
irtue,  or  to 
r  to  absolve 
3  as  if  you 


had  never  known  defilement,  listen  not  to  him  even 
for  a  moment.  Bear  all  privations,  and  submit  to 
every  torture,  rather  than  voluntarily  yield  to  his  se- 
ductive wiles  or  his  menacing  intimidations." 

"I  was  so  shocked  at  these  insinuations,"  Louise 
:.  ':marked,  "  that  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  ears,  or 
admit  that  the  old  widow  had  not  wandered  out  of  her 
senses  into  a  delirium.  When  I  had  recovered  froni 
my  surprise  and  confusion,  I  asked  her  tremulously, 
"  IS  it  possible  such  things  can  be  true  ?"  j'  As  true," 
Marguerite  replied,  "  as  that  I  am  upon  the  very  w&tge 
of  eternity;  and  from  very  indistinct  recollections  of 
past  things,  which  you  have  brought  afresh  to  my 
mind,  if  you  are  not  the  daughter  of  a  priest  and  a 
nun,  then  I  am  much  deceived."  "  This  operated 
upon  me;"  said  Louise,  *'  like  a  charm  ;  and  I  endea- 
voured to  discover  the  secrets  connected  with  my  in- 
fancy ;  but  my  effort  was  vain.  The  old  woman  either 
knew  nothing  certain  upon  the  subject,  or  she  thought 
it  preferable,  from  suspicion  only,  not  to  expose  me.  to 
jeopardy  and  trouble. 

Having  repeated  her  advice  and  warning  to  me  in 
a  most  impressive  manner,  and  again  exacted  my  so- 
lemn promise  to  retain  her  secret,  "  I  would  give 
you,  my  dear,"  subjoined  Marguerite,  "  my  Bible ; 
but  now  it  will  do  you  no  good.  You  could  not  read 
and  keep  it.  It  has  long  been  my  only  comfort,  as  it 
first  also  taught  me  the  way  of  piety  and  peace.  I 
shall  leave  it  to  the  orphan  child  whom  I  have  adopted, 
with  all  my  other  trifles.  If  the  Cure  steals  and  burns 
the  blessed  book,  his  shall  be  the  sin.  I  thank  God, 
that  I  was  enabled  to  place  the  boy  in  comfort  in  Que- 
bec, where  the  priests  will  never  have  any  power  over 
him-  When  you  have  experienced,  as  I/oresee  you 
will,  the  fulfilment  of  my  worst  suspicions,  and  when 


.'I 


''■    -T' 


48 


LOnfiTTfi. 


you  think  of  your  present  religion  as  I  now  do,  if  you 
can,  and  her  heart-melting  tones,  with  her  aflfeciing, 
pathetic  and  tender  looks,  will  never  be  forgotten, 
procure  a  New  Testament.  O  rend  it !  0  pray  for 
wisdom  from  God  to  understand  it!  and  you  will  do 
as  I  have  long  ago  done.  You  will  burn  the  crucifix, 
the  images,  the  rosary,  and  the  missal,  with  all  the 
other  deceitful  relics  of  idolatry;  and  then  prepare  for 
sorrow  and  persecution.  But  stand  fast  in  your 
purity,  grasping  my  hand  with  all  her  strength,  and 
God  will  deliver  you  1" 

"  I  listened  to  Marguerite," said  Louise, "  with  great 
interest.  Her  emaciated  appearance,  and  the  deep 
toned  pathos  and  solemnity  with  which  she  thus  un- 
veiled her  true  character,  the  causes  of  the  change 
wrought  in  her  principles  and  conduct,  the  personal 
application  of  subjects  to  myself  of  which  I  never  be- 
fore had  formed  a  distinct  idea  ;  the  appalling  preci- 
pice on  which  she  represented  me  as  standing,  ready 
to  plunge  into  the  abyss  of  irrecoverable  degradation 
and  crime;  the  new  light  in  which  all  that  I  had 
deemed  sacred  was  presented  to  me,  as  arrayed  in  the 
most  depraved  and  most  loathsome  deformity  ;  aqd 
her  prophetic  cautions  and  intimations  produced  a 
•  complicated  thoughtfulness  and  trernour,  which  1  had 
never  before  realized.  As  some  other  visiter  ap- 
proached, she  took  my  hand  again  :  once  more  re» 
celved  my  double  promise  to  retain  her  secret,  and 
watch  for  my  own  security  ;  and  there  our  intercourse 
ended. 

During  the  remaining  days  of  her  mortal  existence 
no  opportunity  occurred  to  exchange  more  than  the 
speaking  features  and  our  united  hands  could  commu- 
nicale»  but  it  appeared  to  console  her.  The  little  that 
fihe  uttered  was  in  very  cautious  language;  that  her 


' «'  "If 


flTeciing, 
►rgoiten, 
pray  for 

will  do 
crucifix, 

all  the 
'pare  for 
n  your 
?ih,  and 

th  great 
16  deep 
hus  un- 
change 
Dersonal 
ever  be* 
^  preci- 
r,  ready 
radation 
t  I  had 
'd  in  the 
ty ;  aqd 
juced  a 
h  1  had 
iter  ap- 
lore  re« 
ret,  and 
ircourse 

nstence 
ban  the 
[•ommu- 
ttle  that 
;hat  her 


LORETTE. 


49 


true  religious  opinions  might  not  expose  her  to  vexa- 
tion while  living,  and  her  mortal  remains  to  insult 
after  her  spirit  had  winged  its  flight  to  paradise.  I 
thought,  even  then,  that  her  expressions  differed  from 
our  common  phrases ;  but,  blind  as  I  was,  like  all  the 
people  there,  I  did  not  comprehend  her  true  meaning; 
now  I  think  I  understand  what  she  intended.  When 
she  spoke  of  repentance  towards  God,  I  supposed  she 
had  done  all  needful  penance.  She  talked  of  faith  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  rock  of  her  hopes  ;  and 
we  naturally  but  very  stupidly  applied  it  to  the  pope, 
and  Peter,  and  the  Virgin  Mary.  When  she  men- 
tioned the  comfort  that  she  felt  in  knowing  that  her 
"  transgressions  were  forgiven,  and  that  her  sin  was 
covered,"  we  of  course  interpreted  it  of  the  pretre's 
plenary  absolution.  She  told  us  of  "  seeing  Jesus  ;'* 
and  we  fancied  that  she  was  looking  at  the  crucifix  ! — 
Ah !  my  friends ;  how  blind  we  arjB,  who  are  thus 
brought  up  under  Roman  priests!  well  may  we 
always  pray:  "O  Lord,  turn  us  from  darkness  ti> 
light ;  open  our  eyes  that  we  may  behold  wondrous 
things  out  of  thy  law  !"  Providentially  for  Margue- 
rite, the  cure  was  absent  during  the  last  days  of  her 
existence ;  and  only  returned  in  time^to  administer 
his  extreme  unction ;  when  the  dying  believer  was 
totally  unconscious  of  all  things  external.  About  tho 
end  of  his  soul-deceiving  ceremony,  she  breathed  no 
more. 

After  her  interment,  her  bible  was  found :  and  well 
do  I  recollect  the  fury  which  it  produced.  The  cure 
raged  like  a  madman ;  and  his  silly  followers  all  vent- 
ed their  noisy  execrations.  Marguerite's  hypocrisy 
and  heresy,  with  the  lamentations  of  her  neighbours 
for  their  kindness  and  attentions  to  the  helpless  and 
dying  heretic,  were  permanent  themes  of  discussion, 


I 


1 


ill 

m 


n\ 


00 


LORETT£. 


until  time  slone  allayed  the  storm.  I  was  frequently 
questioned  about  her  bible  by  the  priest  and  nuns: 
but  I  pleaded  perfect  ignorance  of  the  matter,  and  de- 
nied that  I  had  ever  seen  it,  which  was  true.  It  was 
finally  concluded,  that  whit  a  Jesuit,  with  all  his 
eagle-eyed  and  sleepless  perspicacity,  and  nuns,  with 
all  their  exquisite  cunning  craftiness,  could  not  dis- 
cover, would  not  be  discerned  by  an  unsuspecting  eirl, 
who  had  never  heard  of  the  holy  bible  or  the  New 
Testament.  Fenmle  curio-^ity  powerfully  impelled 
me  ;  and  I  began  to  feel  a  restless  uneasiness,  from 
the  novel  subjects  which  Marguerite  had  presented 
to  my  contemplation.  My  time  was  partly  appropri- 
ated to  visits  among  the  different  nuns  in  Quebec; 
that  I  might  become  fully  initiated  in  all  the  routine 
which  would  devolve  upon  me,  when  I  was  placed 
upon  my  noviciate.  The  actions  which  I  witnessed 
certainly  would  have  attracted  little  or  no.  observation, 
had  my  mind  not  been  directed  to  watchfulness,  and 
had  not  a  clue  been  given  to  me  to  interpret  them; 
but  those  scenes  gradually  corroborated  the  views 
of  a  convent's  interior,  which  the  widow  had  pre- 
sented to  me  in  her  repulsive  picture  of  the  turpi- 
tude of  nunneries.  And  being  considered  as  com- 
pletely within  their  power,  I  soon  wus  admitted  to 
the  more  hidden  proceedings  of  these  secret  recesses 
of  human  life. 

As  my  intercourse  became  more  familiar,  and  the 
reserve  of  novel  acquaintance  gradually  disappeared, 
my  convictions  of  the  truth  of  Marguerite's  statement 
became  not  only  more  definite,  but  stronger  and  more 
abiding.  The  stately  prudishness  exhibited  before 
strangers  was  strikingly  contrasted  with  the  unseemly 
and  indecorous  levity  in  their  unobserved  and  private 
pursuits;  and  the  sly,  leering,  licentious  Jesuit,  when 


LORETTB. 


H 


' 


conversing  with  a  nun  alone,  or  with  the  two  conso- 
ciated  sisters  uho  occupied  the  same  apartment,  was 
a  very  different  individual  from  the  gloomy  and  mo- 
tionless featured  pretre  in  the  streets,  and  at  the  altar. 
This  metamorphosis,  which,. in  many  instances,  I 
should  have  thought  impossible,  first  excited  my  sus- 
picions. Watchfulness,  as  the  dying  woman  had  pre- 
monished  me,  soon  produced  incredulity.  In  the 
sanctified  exterior  of  the  pretres,  I  perceived  naught 
but  hypocritical  assumptions.  This  naturally  led  to 
doubts  respecting  the  boasted  superexcellence,  not 
only  of  the  actors,  but  of  their  system  of  priestcraft. 
Siill  I  believed  all  their  doctrines  as  far  as  I  knew 
them,  and  tacitly  admitted  all  their  claims.  Amid 
the  gorgeousness  of  their  ceremonial,  and  the  conse- 
quent intoxication  of  the  senses,  I  generally  forgot  i[\ 
the  contradictory  realities,  which  I  saw  enacted  be- 
hind the  curtain,  when  the  mask  was  discarded. 
Several  months  revolved  in  this  manner ;  the  greater 
portion  of  which  I  can  only  describe  under  the  wimili- 
tude  of  a  person  in  a  revery,  faintly  conscious  of  the 
passing  exterior  scenes,  but  chiefly  absorbed  in  his 
own  mental  abstractions. 

Thus  I  was  increasingly  impressed  with  the  acr;i- 
racy  of  Marguerite's  views;  yet  I  could  not  hava 
cited  even  one  single  fact  distinctly  to  justify  my  in- 
ferences. The  circumstances  which  attracted  my 
notice  were  doubtless  enacted  before  me  as  a  decoy. 
They  were  disguised  under  such  endearing  names, 
and  so  extenuated,  and  pruned  of  their  offensive  lux* 
uriance,  that  often  I  condemned  my  harsh  suspicions, 
which  flowed  from  innate  feelings  of  propriety,  and 
the  spontaneous  dictates  of  natural  conscience.  I  was 
providentially  extricated  from  this  vaci  lation  of  mind 
on  a  ride  from  Quebec  into  the  countrly*    Tke  bum 


a*. 


5)  <*1 


"■**^. 


m 


<  1 


^mi 


pi 


v. 


62 


LORETTE. 


directed  me  to  reside  for  a  short  period,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  purer  air.,  near  Jacques  Carlier.  A  female 
companion  attended  me,  whom  in  vain  I  attempted  to 
identify.  After  some  ordinary  chit-chat,  the  strange 
ijun,  for  I  am  now  convinced  that  she  was  one  of 
them,  although  so  disguised  as  to  be  unknown,  asked 
me  some  questions  respecting  my  ideas  of  a  conven- 
tual life,  my  age,  my  predilections,  and  my  views  of 
the  future.  I  replied  as  cautiously  and  indecisively 
as  I  possibly  could.  The  siren  pretended  to  express 
her  delight  at  my  good  sense,  bashfulness,  and  p» 
dence;  and  kissed  me  in  approbation  of  my  opini 

Again  she  artfully  introduced  the  subject  of  lue 
nunnery ;  and,  by  way  of  argun)ent,  as  she  said,  she 
would  slate  the  objections  usually  advanced  by  the 
heretics  to  a  convent,  and  a  refutation  of  them.  When 
she  recapitulated  all  my  own  ideas  upon  the  subject, 
I  was  surprised;  but  her  answers  were  extremely 
weak  and  frivolous.  She,  however,  triumphed  in  the 
ingenuity  of  her  replies,  and  the  greatness  of  her  su- 
periority to  the  opponents  of  a  monastic  life;  and 
having  doubtless  presumed  that  her  prelinn'nary  object 
was  effected,  she  asked  me,  "  how  old  are  you, 
Louise  ?"— ."  I  know  not,"  was  my  reply,  "  nor  can 
any  person  tell  me,  that  I  ever  yet  saw." — "  Let  me 
look  at  you,"  she  rejoined,  and  turning  back  my  hair 
as  if  she  would  view  my  physiognomy,  "0  ho!  what 
have  we  here  !"  and  she  kissed  the  cross  on  my  fore- 
head, "  this  is  a  beautiful  mark,  and  proves  you  to  be 
a  true  daughter  of  our  holy  mother,  the  church." — 
"  I  know  not,"  was  my  answer,  "  who  imprinted  that 
cross,  nor  the  object  for  which  it  was  placed  there." — 
"A  token  of  love,  child,  no  doubt,"  was  her  rejoinder; 
casting  upon  me  a  most  expressive,  but  disgusting 
look,  which  made  me  blush,  for  I  was  filled  with 


r. 


nder  the  pre- 
•     A  female 
attempted  to 
the  strange 
was  one  of 
mown,  asked 
jf  a  conven- 
Tiy  views  of 
indecisively 
jd  to  express 
jss,  and  p» 
my  opini 
ibject  of  lue 
she  said,  she 
need  by  the 
hem.  When 
the  subject, 
e  extremely 
iphed  in  the 
ss  of  her  su- 
ic  life;  and 
linary  object 
Id   are  you, 
',  "nor  can 
— "  Let  me 
ick  my  hair 
0  ho !  what 
on  my  fore- 
s  you  to  be 
church." — 
printed  that 
d  there."— 
r  rejoinder; 
disgusting 
filled  with 


LORETTE.  ' 

shame,  "  and  you  may  be  proud  to  wear  it.  But 
what  makes  you  blush  so?  were  you  ever  in  love  V* 
I  returned  a  negative  to  this  question  ;  with  which 
she  expressed  her  satisfaction,  cautioning  me  against 
the  admission  of  any  unholy  predilection  for  wicked 
men,  as  inconsistent  with  the  vows  of  the  sisterhood. 
She  then  began  a  long  eulogy  upon  the  happiness  of 
residing  in  a  convent;  where  persons  might  enjoy 
every  pleasure  of  life  without  restraint,  unreproached, 
and  exempt  from  the  fear  of  discovery. 

She  managed  this  most  difficult  part  of  her  under- 
taking with  great  address.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
me  with  very  intense  scrutiny.  She  analyzed  my 
feelings  with  the  utmost  accuracy,  from  the  involun- 
tary movements  of  my  countenance.  She  advanced, 
retreated,  moved  around,  was  softened  or  emboldened, 
just  as  she  perceived  most  effectual.  Her  serpentine 
wiles  and  cautious  approaches  finally  convinced  me, 
that  this  was  only  the  prelude  to  the  serious  drama 
in  which  I  was  doomed  soon  to  be  a!  chief  character, 
and  my  promise  to  the  dying  Marguerite  recurred  in 
all  its  sanctity  and  eflicacy.  The  consequent  compo- 
sure depicted  on  my  countenance  completely  deceived 
that  female  seducer ;  for  she  mistook  the  calmness  of 
shielded  purity,  for  the  tame  yielding  of  corrupted 
virtue.  Enough  was  unfolded  during  that  ride  to 
convince  me,  that,  without  the  impediments  to  which 
the  old  French  woman  alluded,  and  even  with  them, 
monasteries  are  the  earthly  vestibule  to  the  fearful 
abodes  of  guilt  and  eternal  despair.  From  that  time, 
my  resolution  was  fixedfthat  I  would  never  commence 
the  proposed  noviciate.  Three'  days  did  the  artful 
creature  remain  with  me  at  a  house,  the  inmates  of 
which  were  more  repulsive  than  my  heated  imagina- 
tion had  depicted,  from  the  dislike  which  I  had  im- 


s  ':H' 


■|' 


rC-^ 


>.«iwwiv4ii;iifluji;jgiuv)pioiHiiiiiaip  iijUL      ■■iijj^iiLUiiimi 


M 


LORKTTE. 


bibed,  notwitbstanding  her  flattering  delineations- 
There  I  first  saw  what  had  never  before  existed  in 
my  fancy.  Then  I  truly  felt  the  reality  of  Margue- 
rite's aversion  to  a  pretended  religion,  of  which  such 
human  mqnsters  were  the  accredited  disciples  and 
teachers.         • 

After  a  short  period,  a  pretre  entered  the  scene; 
and  unless  my  anticipations  are  perfectly  fallacious,  we 
shall  see  him  to-morrow  at  Lorette  ;  the  same  wretch 
who  on  the  other  day  denounced  you.     I  could  not 
see  his  person ;  but  the  tones  of  his  voice  are  too 
strongly  engraven  upon  my  memory  ever  to  be  erased. 
At  the  house  whither  I  was  sent,  were  two  females, 
adepts  in  every  species  of  vice.     All  their  artifices 
were  directed  to  undermine  my  innate  resistance  to 
their  assaults  upon  my  principles.     Their  shameless 
examples  were  added  to  their  other  efforts.     A\  hen 
they  were  alone  wiih  me  and  the  priest,  every  attempt 
was  made  to  induce  me  to  join  in  their  disgusting 
familiarities  with  him.     Invariably  did  I  refuse,  and 
although  it  was  impossible  to  hinder  or  to  escape  from 
the  pretre's  impudent  blandishments,  yet  the  solemn 
purposes  ef  my  soul  became  continually  more  stern. 
The  arguments  which  the  pviest  and  his  associates 
used  to  extirpate  my  delicacy,  only  served  to  refine 
and  strengthen  it;  and  I  easily  adopted  Marguerite's 
conclusion,  that  a  religion  which  permitted  and  justi- 
fied such  flagrant  violations  of  all  that  is  pure  and 
conscientious;  which  can  suborn  agents  o  seduce  in- 
nocence, and  insnare  the  weak ;  which  sanctifies  vice, 
degrades  virtue,  and  confounds  all  moral  distinctions, 
was  incurably  corrupt.     Not  that  I  had  any  right  to 
infer  from  the  conduct  of  a  few,  that  the  whole  body 
were  transgressors ;  but  as  I  became  gradually  more 
initiated  into  their  secret  mysteries,  f  perceived  that 


^1 


LORETTE. 


65 


•which  was  good  disappear,  and  that  which  Wail  dflly 
evil,  to  sway  the  sceptre.  '-  '  • 

Having  been  thus  instructed  in  my  first  lesson,  at 
the  end  of  a  month,  I  was  sent  to  Quebec,  to  learn 
some  additional  rules  in  this  hopeful  science.  What 
I  daw  and  heard,  and  what  it  was  intended  I  should 
believe,  and  when  called  upon  practise,  mussi  remain 
a  secret.  One  thing  rather  astonished,  but  yet  pleas3d 
me  ;  neither  the  superior  nor  the  religieuses  ever  ad- 
verted to  the  topic  of  my  noviciate.  During  this  pe- 
riod the  life  of  a  nun  was  gilded  over  in  its  most 
beauteous  array;  and  I  should  most  certainly  have 
beeii  insnared,  had  I  not  been  influenced  by  Mak2:ue- 
rite's  dying  communication.  That  enabled  me  to 
pierce  behind  the  gaudy  attractive  scenes;  and  in  the 
familiarity  oi  that  confidence  which  two  of  them  dared 
to  exhibit,  I  beheld  the  corroding  worm  which  de- 
voured all  their  usefulness  and  peace.  I  was  admitted 
to  the  retired  hours  and  occupations  of  most  of  the 
nuns.  Some  were  fastidiously  reserved ;  others  acted 
their  part  throughout;  some  privately  displayed  their 
genuine  tempers  ;  but  two  only  candidly  unveiled 
those  living  tombs  of  goodness  and  virtue,  and  those 
dread  sepulchral  abodes  of  hypocrisy  and  pollution. 
I  per/ived  that  a  monastic  life  is  a  complete  masque- 
rade, in  which  all  the  characters  are  either  devotees 
of  vice,  or  skeletons  of  misery ;  but  a!l  without  dig- 
nity, or  goodness,  or  comfort;  where  ail  the  glories 
of  which  they  boast  are  entirely  unknown. 
■'  At  the  commenceme  U  of  the  last  month  of  my  pro- 
bationary year,  about  twenty  days  before  I  first  saw 
you,  I  was  again  remanded  to  the  country.  Who 
was  my  companion  on  that  occasion  I  kn:  ^v*  not.  If 
she  was  the  same  woman  as  on  the  former  journey, 
then  there  is  no  exterior  appearance  which  she  could 


I) 
■ .  'J 


1 


00 


LORSTTE. 


not  conceal  or  counterfeit.  We  started  from  Quebec, 
to  my  utter  surprise  and  dread,  in  the  afternoon,  in  a 
large  covered  carriole.  Which  way  we  travelled, 
where  we  stopped,  or  at  what  hour  of  the  night  we 
arrived,  I  can  form  no  idea.  Some  time  after  dark,  a 
pretre  entered  the  carriole  as  if  travelling  the  same 
road  ;  and  the  conversation  soon  assumed  a  most  re- 
pulsive character.  I  presently  complained  of  fatigue, 
and  composed  myself  as  if  for  sleep,  anxious  to  unra- 
vel their  plot.  Nothing  occurred  to  attract  my  notice, 
until  after  the  female  had  examined  me,  and  ascer- 
tained, as  she  concluded,  that  I  was  asleep.  Curiosity 
alone  kept  me  quiet,  while  I  heard  them  explain  the 
whole  mystery;  for  the  closing  scene  was  now  to  be 
enacted. 

This  was  the  identical  pretre  with  whom  I  had 
been  so  disgusted  at  Jacques  Cartier ;  and  we  were 
then  going  to  his  house.  I  was  to  be  introduced  un- 
der some  fictitious  character,  if  I  could  not  altogether 
be  concealed ;  and  of  course,  was  to  be  the  slave  of  his 
will,  until  the  time  appointed  for  the  commencement 
of  my  noviciate;  when  I  was  to  be  transferred,  like 
others  who  had  passed  through  the  same  guilty  path, 
to  the  convent ;  and  as  it  would  be  useless  afterward 
to  complain,,  the  life  of  a  nun  would  be  preferred  by 
me,  as  by  their  former  victims,  to  their  malevolence 
and  persecution.  The  most  shocking  part  of  their 
infamous  arrangement  was  this;  in  case  of  necessity, 
the  pretr&^s  atrocious  purpose  was  to  be  accomplished 
by  violence.  The  priest  left  us  before  we  stopped 
for  the  night*s  rest.  On  the  next  evening,  after  a  con- 
siderable ride,  my  female  companion  and  myself  en- 
tered a  church,  and,  upon  a  signal  being  given  to  her, 
we  proceeded  to  the  sacristy,  which  was  immediately 
fastened  from  without ;  and,  by  a  concealed  avenue, 


1 


Quebec, 
oon,  in  a 

ravelled, 
night  we 
r  dark,  a 
he  same 
most  re- 
fatigue, 
to  unra- 
y  notice, 
»d  ascer- 
uriosity 
)lain  the 
)w  to  be 

a  I  had 
we  were 
iced  un- 
together 
ve  of  his 
ncement 
ed,  like 
ity  path, 
fterward 
irred  by 
(volence 
of  their 
scessity, 
iplished 
stopped 
T  a  con- 
self  en- 
to  her, 
'diately 
ivenue, 


LORETTE. 


67 


we  passed  into  the  Jesuit's  habitation.     When  I  saw 
him,  remembering  their  conversation  of  the  night  be- 
fore, and  reflecting  upon  Marguerite,  and  her  strange 
prediction,  my  heart  sunk  within  me,  and  I  was  rea- 
dy to  surrender  all  hope.     But  when  I  was  in  the 
room  where  they  ordered  me  to  disrobe,  I  endeavour- 
ed to  pray  unto  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  in  words 
of  my  own.     It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  done  so ; 
and  I  was  supported.    Marguerite's  last  words  rushed 
into  my  mind,  "  stand  fast  in  your  purity,  and  God 
will  deliver  you,"  and  I  resolved,  through  Divine  as- 
sistance, to  abide  every  trial,  rather  than  thus  to  be 
sacrificed  by  those  panders  of  iniquity.     The  odious 
hag  remained  about  four  days.     All  that  ingenuity 
could  devise  was  attempted,  to  induce  my  compliance 
with  the  pretre*s  desire.    When  coaxing  failed,  every 
menace  which  revenge,  authority,  an    disappointment 
could  denounce,  was  not  less  ineffectually  applied.   She 
finally  left  me  completely  in  the  power  of  a  mon>ter, 
of  whose  nefarious  designs,  unawares  to  them,  I  had 
become  fully  apprized.     Continually  did  he  torment 
me  with  his  wicked  proposals  and  forced  caresses. 
He  adduced  all  the  varied  deceptions  which  Margue- 
rite had  detailed.     He  boasted  of  the  authority  of  his 
church,  the  blessedness  of  his  absolution,  the  comfort 
of  enjoying  a  priest's  favour,  and  the  satisfaction  of  a 
nun's  life,  with  its  glorious  reward.     His  blasphemy 
repelled  me  as  much  as  his  obscenity.     My  reply 
was  short,  but  peremptory,  "1  will  never  consent  to 
your  base  design." 

On  the  eighth  day  after  the  woman  who  conducted 
me  had  left  us,  a  letter  was  delivered  to  me,  written 
by  the  same  person  who  has  addressed  you  this  even- 
ing. It  strongly  urged  my  prompt  couipliance  with 
the  priest's  wishes ;  for  he  would  have  his  way,  and 

6* 


^m 


'''>^% 


68 


LORETTE. 


longer  resistance  would  only  make  it  the  more  pain- 
ful for  me.    It  was  closed  in  the  Tery  same  words, 
"  Do  not  offend  the  priests.     Believe  what  they  lell 
you.     Do  just  as  they  say,  and  all  will  yet  be  well." 
During  two  or  three  following  days  he  desisted  from 
his  importunities,  but  he  still  distressed  and  insulted 
me  with  his  pretended  endearments.    He  was  allow- 
ing me  not  only  an  opportunity  to  consider  the  con- 
tents of  the  letter,  but  also  to  be  assured  from  the  tes- 
timony, of  my  eyes  and  ears,  according  to  Margue- 
rite'a  debasing  account,  that  young  women  and  those 
of  our  sex,  who  possess  any  influence  in  society,  are 
often  merely  unconscious  instruments  to  execute  the 
cure's  designs.    The  females  doubtless  supposed,  that 
they  and  the  pretre  were  concealed  from  all  human 
observation ;  yet  the  grossest  acts  of  dissoluteness 
were  performed,  where  I  could  not  but  understand 
them,  expressly  to  influence  my  mind  to  yield  to  the 
impression,  that  as  these  private  matters  could  not  be 
suspected,  and  muc!i  less  known  to  the  world,  rhey 
produced  no  disgrace,  and,  therefore,  that  it  was  folly, 
and  useless  for  me,  not  to  conform  to  what  was  obvi- 
ously general  and  established  usage. 

Four  or  five  days  before  you  found  me,  the  pretre 
was  visited  by  some  of  the  habituns,  to  whom  he  com- 
municated, that  on  the  following  Sunday,  immediately 
after  mass,  he  should  go  to  Quebec  on  business  of  im- 
portance to  the  church;  that  he  should  not  return 
until  the  day  bv^fore  the  festival,  and  that  he  should 
leave  a  woman  named  Guise,  to  take  care  of  his 
house.  From  that  time  until  the  following  Saturday, 
I  suffered  €very  variety  of  anguish.  His  conduct 
was  indescribable.  By  crafty  allurements,  by  intimi- 
dating threats,  by  urging  the  duty  of  obedience  to  his 
priestly  authority,  and  by  reminding  me  oi  the  scenes 


; 


LORETTE. 


69 


re  pain- 
s  words, 
they  tell 
e  well." 
ed  from 
insulted 
IS  allow- 
the  con* 
the  tes- 
IVIargue- 
nd  those 
iety,  are 
icute  the 
sed,  that 
i  human 
)luteness 
derstand 
id  to  the 
Id  not  be 
rid,  rhey 
^as  folly, 
vas  obvi" 

re  pretre 
he  com- 
mediately 
iss  of  im- 
►t  return 
3  should 
'e  of  his 
►aturday, 
conduct 
y  intimi- 
ce  to  his 
le  scenes 


and  examples  which  my  situation  had  compelled  me 
to  witness:  sometimes  he  insulted  me  with  his  indecent 
familiarities,  and  at  others,  proceeded  to  the  hrutal  vio- 
lence of  superior  force — so  that  upon  one  occasion, 
had  I  not  been  endowed  with  unusual  energy  to  re- 
sist his  assault,  he  would  have  consummated  his  hor-" 
rid  purpose.     I  had  no  rest  by  day,  and  was  afraid  to 
sleep  by  night,  as  the  ruffian  was  always  on  the 
watch  to  take  advantage  of  any  moment  when  I  was 
unprepared  to  repel  his  atrocious  attempts. 
»     He  had  appointed  the  Saturday  evening  forhistool 
to  arrive,  that  he  might  direct  her  how  to  act  during 
his  absence.    When  she  appeared,  my  whole  soul  ab- 
horred her  sensual,  witch-like  countenance.   She  was 
well  tutored  for  the  task.     I  was  represented  to  be  a 
girl  out  of  her  mind,  who  had  been  sent  to  him  by 
a  family  relative,  to  provide  an  asylum  for  me  in  Que- 
bec, and  that  was  the  reason  of  his  journey.    He  also 
stated,  that  I  was  perfectly  inoffensive  and  peaceable  ; 
and  only  commanded  her  carefully  to  watch  me.  The 
minion  of  his  wickedness  pleaded  that  she  could  not 
stay  in  the  house  alone.   "  I  shall  be  scared  out  of  my 
wits  too,"  said  Guise,  "  your  reverence  must  let  me  go 
away  at  night.    I  will  take  care  that  the  poor  girl 
shall  do  no  harm."  This  produced  a  long  altercation, 
but  the  pretre  finally  was  obliged  to  consent.    He  sup- 
posed that  I  was  ignorant  of  this  arrangement;  and 
presuming  upon  his  power  over  me,  and  the  safety  of 
the  dungeon  in  which  I  was  immured,  for  the  only 
window  in  the  room  was  effectually  barred  without, 
so  as  to  preclude  all  escape ;  he  perceived  no  other 
mode  to  retain  his  prisoner,  than  by  complying  with 
Guise's  obstinacy.     To  have  confided  the  secret  of 
my  presence  even  to  his  sacristan,  was  fraught  with 
4he  greatest  risk ;  as  many  of  the  seigniors,  although 


■A 


m 


. 


eo 


LORETTE. 


they  nominally  adhere  to  the  church,  are  known  se- 
cretly to  despise  their  ceremonies,  and  to  abhor  the 
priest;  and  through  a  man's  unwillingness  to  aid  in 
the  infliction  of  unalterable  misery  upon  a  young  wo- 
man,  which  might  be  communicated  to  the  seignior, 
'*  the  sacristari  could  not  be  trusted.     He  contrived  to 
despatch  the  woman  away,  under  some  pretext,  in  the 
evening,  and  then  disclosed  all  his  base  design.     He 
was  going  to  Quebec,  and  while  there,  he  should  ar- 
range the  plan  for  my  removal  to  the  nunnery  speedily 
after  the  holidays.     "  I  shall  return  next  Tuesday,' 
said  the  preire,  "and   remember,"  uttering  a  most 
dreadful  execration,  with  a  petrifying  look  of  malig- 
nant sensuality,  which  even  now  fills  me  with  horror, 
*'even  if  you  die,  that  night  you  shall  be  mine." — 
"Never,"  I  angrily  replied,  **  upon  no  pretext,  through 
no  artifice,  by  no  force,  will  1  yield  myself  to  your 
desires."     He  merely  added,  "we  shall  see,"  and  left 
me.     The  loathed  Guise  was  my  companion  for  the 
night.  *'  "" 

In  my  dreaming  drowsiness,  as  well  as  when  I  was 
fully  awake,  my  head  was  filled  with  manoeuvres  and 
contrivances.  My  roving  imagination  pondered  upon 
every  variety  of  stratagem,  by  which  I  might  avoid 
the  calamity  that  impended  over  me.  My  aversion 
to  the  nunnery  became  an  additional  incentive;  and 
I  resolved  never  again  to  enter  that  polluted  woful 
region,  unless  by  force.  I  frequently  was  startled  ^n 
the  night  to  rational  recollection,  from  the  strong  ex- 
citement of  my  mind;  but  I  could  retrace  nothing, 
except  an  indistinct  comfortable  feeling,  which  encou- 
raged a  hope  of  yet  eluding  the  pretre's  grasp.  This 
expectation,  however,  was  quelled,  when  in  the  morn- 
ing I  di.«covered  that  every  article  of  my  clothing  had 
disappeared  except  my  house  dress.     Consequently^ 


t( 


LORETTE. 


61 


! 


even  if  it  were  possible  to  fly,  the  coldness  of  the 
weather  would  speedily  terminate  my  sorrows,  and  I 
shuddered  at  the  idea  of  freezing  to  death.  While  the 
priest  and  his  imp  were  at  mass,  I  made  a  discovery 
which  became  the  main  spring  of  my  elopement.  Guise 
bad  arrived  the  night  before  in  her  usual  common 
clothes,  having  brought  her  extra  Sunday  apparel. 
The  same  bonnet  and  cloak  which  you  found  with 
this  shawl  and  the  moccasons,  were  laid  aside,  no 
doubt,  to  be  resumed  on  Monday.  As  soon  as  mass 
was  finished,  the  pretre  departed.  I  heard  him  direct 
Guise  to  take  care,  when  she  left  the  house  in  the 
evening,  not  to  go  away  very  early,  to  leave  no  candle, 
and  to  be  careful  that  the  outside  door,  and  the  door 
leading  to  the  sacristy,  and  especially  the  entrance  to 
the  stair  case,  were  all  safely  locked  and  bolted,  so 
that  my  dungeon  should  be  secure.  As  he  went  out 
of  the  room  to  his  carriole,  he  cast  his  gloating  eyes 
upon  me,  and,  to  my  inexpressible  delight,  the  Jesuit 
and  one  of  his  young  dependants  soon  disappeared. 

1  had  hoped  to  have  made  use  of  the  woman  in  some 
mode  to  aid  rny  design,  but  she  was  not  less  intracta- 
ble toward  me,  than  obstinate  with  the  priest.  When 
I  spoke  to  her,  she  would  look  at  me  with  disdain, 
**  poor  wretch,"  this  was  her  sole  reply.  I  attempted 
to  soften  her  by  kind  and  flattering  language,  but  fill 
was  ineflectuaL  She  muttered  to  h^-rself  in  soliloquy, 
avowing  her  unwillingness  to  str  j  after  dark,  her  wish 
to  have  a  man  in  the  house,  and  a  number  of  other 
similar  complaints.  When  she  paussd,  I  would  in- 
terpose and  declare,  "  You  must  not  go  away.  You 
must  not  leave  me.  If  any  person  come  to  the  bouse 
I  will  go  out  to  them,  1  will  not  stop  here  by  myself." 
To  comfort  and  doceive  me,  as  she  thought,  she  woujd 
reply,  "  I  will  stay  with  you.    I  will  lock  all  the  doors 


.1:1 


II 


62 


LORETTE. 


early  at  night.  We  will  take  a  long  sleep."  I  per- 
ceived her  artifice,  but  it  fully  answered  my  purpose. 
Several  persons  came  to  the  priest's  house  in  the  af- 
ternoon. I  was  thrust  into  my  own  apartment,  but 
as  Guise  suspected  that  I  should  be  listening,  she 
avowed  her  intention  of  staying  all  night,  and  also  of 
procuring  some  woman  of  the  neighbourhood  to  keep 
her  company.  After  some  of  her  visiters  had  retired, 
I  heard  her  move  toward  my  door.  I  pretended  to 
be  asleep,  as  she  came  into  the  room.  Convinced  that 
I  was  insensible  to  their  conversation,  upon  her  return 
to  her  companions,  I  heard  her  promise  a  man  to  ac- 
company him  to  a  great  dance,  which  was  to  be  held 
that  evening  about  three  miles  distant.  He  engaged 
to  bring  his  carriole  at  eight  o'clock,  and  drive  her 
back  by  day-light. 

When  all  her  associates  had  left  her,  Guise  began 
to  make  her  preparations  for  the  frolic.  She  filled  the 
fire-place  with  wood,  and  arranged  every  little  conve- 
nience, in  case,  as  she  said,  I  should  want  any  thing 
in  the  night.  I  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  bread 
"was  not  removed  out  of  the  sitting  room,  and  that  she 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  common  dress.  The 
Sunday  afternoon  was  stormy,  and  this  furnished  Guise 
with  an  excuse  for  retiring  to  rest  at  an  early  hour. 
The  bells  of  the  passing  carrioles  were  the  signal  by 
which  she  proposed  that  we  should  lay  down  for  the 
night.  She  had  disposed  a  pallet  for  herself  in  the  ex- 
terior room ;  and  when  I  had  noticed  the  exact  place 
of  the  various  articles,  I  partially  disrobed,  and  appa- 
rently resigned  myself  to  sleep.  After  a  short  period, 
supposing  me  to  be  unconscious  of  her  plans,  she 
cautiously  lighted  the  candle,  and  approachinjg:  my 
bed,  as  she  perceived  no  symptoms  of  wakefulness, 
**  Poor  wretch  !"  said  the  callous  miscreant ;  for  now 


LOBETT£> 


08) 


purpose. 

1  the  af- 

lent,  but 

ing,  she 

I  also  of 

to  keep 

retired, 

3nded  to 

iced  that 

T  return 

n  to  ac- 

be  held 

engaged 

rive  her 

58  began 
illed  the 
i  conve- 
ny  thing 
e  bread 
that  she 
s.  The 
d  Guise 
\y  hour, 
gnal  by 
for  the 
the  ex- 
ct  place 
d  appa- 
period, 
ns,  she 
ins:  my 
'fulness, 
for  now 


I  have  no  doubt  that  she  was  privy  to  the  whole  cotispi- 
racy.  She  then  began  to  array  herself  for  the  frolic.  By 
the  reflectionof  the  light,  I  soon  ascertained,  that  her 
meaner  apparel  was  still  where  she  first  had  laid  it, 
and  that  she  was  ready  to  depart.  A  slight  knock  at 
the  door  intimated  the  arrival  of  her  partner.  She 
then  filled  the  stove,  secured  it  from  danger,  surveyed 
all  the  doors,  once  more  examined  me,  and  then  with- 
drew, locking  me  into  darkness,  silence,  and  solitude. 
Surely  nothing  but  Divine  goodness  and  mercy,  and 
the  hope  that  my  plan  to  escape  would  succeed,  sup- 
ported me  at  that  fearful  moment.  My  heart  sunk 
down  like  lead  within  me,  when  I  heard  the  external 
door  closed,  and  the  carriole  driven  away ;  thus  leav- 
ing me,  as  it  were,  intombed  alive  in  that  above- 
ground  sepulchre.  I  hastily  arose,  commended  my- 
self to  God's  protection  in  broken,  but  sincc?re  and 
earnest  prayer,  and  felt  inspired  with  the  resolution  to 
seize  the  opportunity  of  escape,  and  risk  all  conse- 
quences, as  I  conceived  that  no  possible  evil  ':ould 
befall  me,  worse  than  the  calamity  which  the  Jesuit 
threatened.      ,,,„<..*'    /      M^'r^-^ 

At  length,  a  tiresome  appalling  dreariness  almost 
benumbed  my  faculties,  and  made  me  hesitate  respect- 
ing the  fulfilment  of  my  intention.  Amid  the  stillness 
of  the  night,  and  the  exercises  of  impatient  alarm, 
it  is  impossible  to  calculate  th^  progress  of  time.  )ts 
first  sensible  lapse  that  I  realized,  was  in  the  feeling 
of  chilliness,  for  the  fire  had  gradually  subsided,  and 
it  was  necessary  to  increase  the  heat.  This  stimula- 
ted my  nerves,  and  I  began  to  recover  fortitude  for 
the  dangerous  eflTort.  The  window  of  the  sitting  room 
was  not  secured  by  a  grate,  and  by  it  1  hoped  to  es- 
cape. The  scene  without  was  not  only  sombre,  but 
terrific.  The  moon  had  set  for  some  time,  and  I  there- 


'''■i 


1 


<l:t    . 


w 


6i 


LORETTB. 


\ 


fore  knew  that  it  must  be  considerably  past  midnight. 
The  wind  was  sufficiently  strong  occasionally  to  drift 
the  snow,  and  every  thing  declared  the  impossibility 
of  surviving  the  night  in  the  open  air.    After  repeated 
surveys,  I  ascertained,  that  there  would  be  little  diffi- 
culty to  reach  the  ground,  with  the  help  of  the  bed 
coverings  securely  tied,  as  the  flat  was  only  a  few  feet 
high.     I  put  on  Guise's  trappings,  and  employed  my- 
self leisurely  in  forcing  open  the  window  shutter,  which 
had  been  fastened  without,  and  in  ."^curing  the  means 
of  descent,  as  I  resolved  to  postpone  my  actual  depar- 
ture until  I  could  perceive  a  fire  in  one  of  the  sur- 
rounding habitations,  because  I  knew  that  Guise  would 
not  leave   the  frolic  until  nearly  day-light.     While 
thus  engaged,  and  anxiously  watching,  a  carriole  drove 
up  near  to  the  house,  and  I  indistinctly  discovered 
three  persons  approaching  the  entrance. 

A  short  conversation  ensued.     Thev  were  consult- 
ing  upon  the  expediency  of  purloining  the  priest's  trea- 
sure, and  as  he  was  away,  and  discovery  impossible, 
it  was  determined  that  they  would  make  the  attempt. 
I  knew  not  how  to  decide.     A  moment  only  was  left 
for  deliberation.     I  resolved  to  trust  to  their  honour, 
and  request  their  aid  to  effect  my  escape.     The  doors 
were  speedily  opened,  and  two  young  men  hurried  up 
the  stairs.     They  possessed  a  concealed  light,  and 
upon  entering  my  room,  were  alarmed  at  seeing  me. 
One  of  them  rushed  upon  me,  and  threatened  me  with 
instant  death,  if  I  made  any  noise.     I  threw  back  my 
bonnet,  and  when,  instead  of  Guise,  he  perceived  a 
young  woman  alone,  **  Very  well !"  said  he,  "  here  is 
a  good  prize  for  us,  the  pretre  contrives  to  pick  out 
good  company,  who  are  you ?"     "I  am  a  stranger," 
was  my  reply,  **  decoyed  here  for  a  bad  design,  and 
was  just  going  to  escape  out  of  the  window,  when  I 


LORETIT. 


65 


"dnight, 
^  to  drift 
)ssibility 

repeated 
tie  diffi- 
the  bed 
few  feet 
yed  my- 
ii',  which 
e  means 
il  depar- 
tbe  sur- 
se  would 
While 
de  drove 
scovered 

consult- 
5t's  trea- 
possible, 
attempt, 
was  left 

honour, 
he  doors 
irried  up 
^ht,  and 
3ing  me. 

me  with 
back  my 
ceived  a 
'*  here  is 
pick  out 
ranger," 
igny  and 

when  I 


heard  your  carriole  approach.  Only  aid  my  flight 
from  this  place :  I  will  not  tell  your  secret."  *'  Good  !'* 
he  replied,  addressing  his  companion,  *'  we  always 
thought  the  cure  had  a  good  reason  for  never  permit- 
ting a  visiter  to  go  up  stairs.  So  this  is  his  female 
department.     We  will  spoil  the  old  coquin*s  tricks." 

They  easily  discovered  and  secured  the  priest's 
money.  He  who  first  saw  me  then  took  me  by  the 
arm,  "Quick!"  said  he,  '*  we  must  go."  I  know  not 
how  I  descended  the  stair-case.  We  entered  the  car- 
riole, and  he  drove  away  to  a  short  distance,  where 
we  could  be  concealed  from  notice.  He  added,  "  we 
must  wait  here  a  little."  Our  contract  was  soon  made. 
He  promised  to  drive  me  as  far  as  he  could  go  with 
his  horse,  before  the  afternoon ;  and  as  I  knew  neither 
him  nor  his  companions,  and  so  dreaded  all  discovery, 
they  feared  no  exposure  from  me.  Suddenly  a  blaze 
of  light  appeared,  "  They  are  right,"  said  my  guar- 
dian, "  Guise  will  be  blamed  for  the  whole  misfortune." 

It  is  impossible  to  say  what  I  felt,  when  I  turned 
and  saw  my  prison  on  fire.  The  young  men  instantly 
rejoined  us.  A  short  circuit  was  made  that  conducted 
us  back  into  the  direct  road  which  led  from  the  house 
where  the  dance  was  held,  and  immediately  they  be- 
gan to  vociferate,  "  Fire  !  fire  !"  They  ran  to  the 
houses  to  awaken  the  neighbouring  inhabitants.  The 
carriole  passed  the  church,  and  remained  stationary  at 
a  short  distance  from  the  scene.  The  sacristan  soon 
rang  the  alarm  bell.  All  the  aflrighted  habitans  blamed 
Guise  for  the  fire,  because  every  door  was  safe,  and 
an  entrance  was  only  made  by  force.  The  pretre's 
furniture  which  was  unburnt  was  thrown  into  the  road, 
and  the  house  was  completely  emptied.  Within  a  few 
minutes  from  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  moving  lights  were 
seen  in  every  direction.    My  companions  immediately 

6 


I' 


r: 


w 


66 


LORETTE. 


returned.     They  had  only  waited  to  see  the  house 
gutted  by  the  sacristan  and  his  helpers.     As  soon  as 
the  screamina:  crowd  from  the  dance  arrived  near  the 
spot,  we  communced  travelling  at  a  rapid  rate  away 
from  the  vile  cure's  prison.     What  direction  we  went 
I  know  not,  nor  was  it  of  any  consequence.    The  only 
intimation  which  I  had  of  our  course  was  from  the  first 
streak  of  day  appearing  nearly  in  front  of  us — thus  in- 
ducing me  to  suppose  that  we  were  travellinof  toward 
Quebec.     The  dark  ride  was  enlivened  by  their  con- 
versation, and  although  my  sense  of  justice  condemned 
their  ill-gotten  spoils ;  yet  I  could  not  heartily  disap- 
prove of  a  measure,  by  which  I  had  been  so  joyfully 
rescued  from  immediate  ruin.     Their  whole  talk  was 
a  specimen  of  reckless  raillery,  respecting  the  manner 
in  which  they  would  confess  their  sin,  and  buy  the 
pretre's  pardon  with  his  own  money,  or,  in  case  of  ne- 
cessity, they  declared  they  would  threaten  the  priest 
with  an  exposure  of  his  concealed  female  companions. 
**  I  will  confess  to  the  cure,"  said  Jacques,  **  I  am 
afraid  some  crowns  which  were  paid  me  in  Quebec 
were  part  of  his  holy  money,  and  upon  condition  of 
his  pardoning  all  my  sins,  that  he  shall  have  them.  O ! 
how  he  will  praise  my  love  of  the  church,  and  my 
tender   conscience."      "That  will  not  do,"   replied 
Pierre,  "  I  will  go  and  pray  him  to  pardon  me  for  be- 
ing at  the  dance  on  a  Sunday;  and  then  tell  him,  that 
had  it  not  been  for  me,  the  whole  of  his  property 
would  have  been  burnt.     *  Who  first  went  into  the 
house'?*  will  be  his  question.     I  shall  answer,  *the  sa- 
cristan.'    *  Where  was  the  strongest  part  of  the  firel* 
will  the  pretre  demand.     I  shall  reply,  *  In  the  up- 
per rooms.'     Who  opened  the  closet  and  took  out  the 
contents  V  will  he  desire  to  know.    *  Ah,  monsieur !' 
will  I  say,  *  I  lyiow  not.    That  was  burnt  out  before  I 


LORETTE. 


87 


could  get  to  the  fire.*  Then  he  will  shake  his  head  at 
his  loss,  praise  my  diligence,  pardon  all  my  sins,  and 
give  me  his  blessing ;  but  if  it  was  worth  one  sous  he 
would  not  bestow  it  without  beinjr  paid  for  it."  "  You 
are  good  for  nothing  at  all,"  affirmed  Francois,  the 
driver.  **  I  will  go  to  him,  *  Ah,  Monsieur,  I  am  sorry 
for  your  loss?  This  will  obtain  his  smile.  *  But,  sir, 
j  they  say — *  in  an  angry  tone  he  will  cry  out,  '  What 
do  they  say?'  *  Pardon  me,'  I  shall. reply.  He  will 
insist,  and  I  shall  oppose,  until  at  last  1  shall  inform 
him,  that  Guise  arrived  at  the  fire  just  as  it  was  ex- 
tinguished, and  asked  if  any  person  had  seen  a  young 
,voman  about  the  fire  ;  that  we  all  said,  no.  That  she 
continued  to  repeat,  *  Poor  wretch !'  so  that  they  say, 
tiiere  was  a  girl  burnt  up  in  the  fire.  'Who  says  so?' 
will  he  demand.  *  All  the  people  say,'  will  I  reply, 
*  that  they  heard  Guise  lamenting  to  herself;  and  that 
she  often  says,  it  was  better  to  jump  out  of  the  window 
into  the  snow,  than  to  be  burnt  in  a  house.  *  Take 
care,'  will  the  pretre  reply,  '  contradict  that  story.' 
Upon  which  I  shall  promise  him  obedience,  and   he 

(will  grant  me  full  indulgence  for  a  year."  **  What  is 
the  pretre's  name,  and  what  do  they  call  the  place  ?" 
I  askttd. — "Do  you  not  know  the  pretre's  name?"  said 
Francois.  "  No,"  was  n»y  reply,  "  I  know  neither  his 
name,  nor  what  they  call  the  village."  *'  So  much  the 
better,"  answered  Francois,  *'  then  we  are  safe." 

Of  the  priest's  reported  tricks,  avarice,  and  disso- 
luteness, they  detailed  all  which  they  knew.  Their 
conversation  proved  to  me,  that  of  good  principles 
they  themselves  had  very  little  idea;  that  they  con- 
sidered all  religion  to  be  a  farce,  in  which  the  priest 
enacted  the  chief  character ;  and  that  to  rob  tl)e  cures 
was  only  doing  in  another  form  the  very  same  thefts 
which  they  always  practised.   Every  thing  which  they 


4:1 


I: 


i^ 


tORETTE. 


m.^ntioned  confirmed  my  abhorrence  both  of  the  priests 
arjd  their  system.  How  long  we  had  continued  to  ride, 
or  what  distance  we  had  come,  I  know  not ;  and  when 
they  understood  my  ignorance  of  the  priest's  name  and 
of  the  spot,  tliey  would  not  answer  any  question  by 
which  I  could  ever  know  either,  so  that  they  might 
elude  all  suspicion  and  discovery.  Who  were  my  fel- 
low travellers,  or  where  we  were  going,  was  equally 
a  mystery.  The  cloudiness  of  the  morning  also  inter- 
rupted any  distant  view ;  but  sometime  after  daylight, 
we  stopped  at  a  house  to  breakfast.  There,  during 
the  interval  of  preparation,  the  priest's  spoilers  divided 
their  prey.  They  obtained  a  large  booty,  and  offered 
me  an  equal  part,  which  1  refused.  But  when  they 
heard  that  the  old  coquin,  as  they  termed  the  priest^ 
had  stolen  my  clothing  and  that  I  was  pennyless,  they 
insisted  that  I  should  accept  a  small  sum  as  a  present 
from  themselves,  independent  of  their  good  and  law- 
ful prize,  as  they  jocularly  termed  the  priest's  louis 
d'ors,  to  keep  me  from  immediate  want  till  I  could  find 
a  refuge. 

Duimg  the  breakfast,  an  inquiry  was  made,  **  how 
ihall  we  direct  our  course  ?"  It  was  proposed  to  pro- 
ceed by  Poiut  aux  Trembles  to  Quebec.  To  this 
course  I  decidedly  objected,  and  told  them,  that  I  was 
known  there,  and  should  be  discovered.  They  there- 
fore determiited  to  take  the  interior  route  by  Lorette, 
and  leave  me  where  I  pleased.  We  again  stopped  for 
dinner,  and  before  sunset,  about  a  mile  from  the  In- 
dian village,  we  finally  separated.  When  the  carriole, 
with  my  deliverers,  had  fully  disappeared,  I  once  more 
felt  my  forlorn  situation.  Knowing  that  eveiy  stran- 
ger is  a  curiosity  to  the  habitans,  and  that  if  the  cure 
is  at  home,  the  smallest  novelty  is  immediately  re- 
vealed to  him ;  I  dr^  \ded  exposure,  and  yet  dared  not 


LORETTE. 


60 


intrust  myself  with  persons  unknown  in  a  carriole, 
€veii  had  one  passed  me.  To  stay  in  the  snow  dur- 
ing a  December  niglit  was  certain  death.  I  wandered 
along  the  road,  scarcely  conscious  of  my  movements 
until  night  had  completely  set  in ;  when  upon  looking 
around  me,  I  perceived  by  the  moon,  that  1  had  di- 
verged from  the  road  to  Quebec  toward  the  mountain. 
1  felt  a  numbness  creeping  over  me,  which,  as  soon  as 
I  began  to  reflect,  warned  me  of  my  danger,  and  I 
instantly  exerted  all  my  energies,  and  hastened  to  re- 
trace my  course.  The  exercise  was  salutary,  but 
when  I  arrived  at  the  village,  my  dilemma  continued 
the  same.  J.  could  not  directly  appeal  for  a  ii.^ht's 
lodging  to  the  Indians.  No  means  of  escape  were 
present  to  my  view.  My  fortitude  left  me.  I  forgot 
the  Almighty  refuge.  I  retraced  the  past  with  horror, 
and  the  future  I  dreaded.  I  felt  as  a  worm  trodden 
under  foot,  and  crushed  to  the  earth.  In  my  own  ap- 
prehension, I  vva.«  a  perfectly  isolated  human  being. 
I  could  not  claim  a  friend,  and  all  the  men  and  women 
whom  I  knew,  except  my  deliverers  from  the  [)riest's 
house,  seemed  to  be  leagued  in  a  conspiracy  against 
my  personal  purity  and  peace.  In  this  agitated  state 
of  mind,.  I  wandered  to  and  fro.  The  'ight  which  the 
evening  before  had  directed  me  to  a  God  of  mercy  was 
not  perceptible.  In  the  pungency  of  my  bitterness,  I 
had  forgotten  the  Almighty  arm,  which  had  interposed 
for  my  deliverance,  without  permitting  me  to  perpe« 
trate  the  scheme  that  I  had  once  intended,  for  had  no 
other  means  been  practicable,  I  had  resolved  to  set 
fire  to  the  house  and  escape  in  the  confusion.  In  this 
wretchedness,  1  walked  along  the  main  road,  and  as 
far  as  I  can  retrace  my  injpressions,  determined  that 
I  would  be  impelled  by  circumstances  as  they  might 
arise.     The  sound  of  the  waters  and  the  sight  of  thj^ 

6*  -" 


1:1 


ill 


.i!       I| 


Wl 


J 


70 


LORITTS. 


foam  bewildered  my  imagination ;  and  I  thought,  that 
death  or  life  was  of  equal  moment,  as  no  person  on 
earth  was  interested  in  me.  This  is  my  last  existing 
distinct  recollection.  I  was  then  standing  near  the 
church  at  Lorette.  Of  all  the  rest,  I  am  totally  un- 
conscious, until  I  became  sufficiently  restored  to  hear 
your  story,  to  thank  you  for  your  benevolence,  and  to 
praise  God  for  my  preservation." 

Chretien,  who  had  betrayed  most  emotion,  as  Louise 
unfolded  her  melancholy  narrative,  first  interrupted 
the  silence  which  ensued  after  she  had  closed,  *'  If  I 
thought  that  such  sinfulness  existed,"  he  remarked,  "I 
would  forswear  the  priests  and  their  corrupt  religion 
forever."  "  What  have  you  ever  seen  in  me,"  asked 
Louise,  with  great  dignity  and  pathos,  **  which  should 
induce  you,  Chretien,  to  doubt  my  painful  talel" 
**  Nothing  at  all,  dear  Louise,"  he  replied,  "  but  this 
wickedness  seems  so  incredible,  that  one  demands 
strong  testimony  to  overcome  our  doubts."  "  This 
only  proves  what  I  said  before,"  interposed  Diganu, 
**  but  what  evidence  will  satisfy  you,  that  the  priest 
who  has  been  the  tormentor  of  Louise  is  also  now  con- 
cerned in  this  mystery,  and  that  he  is  the  strange  pre- 
tre  who  visited  us  ?  Will  Louise's  positive  recognition 
of  him,  as  well  as  of  the  same  hand  writing  in  the  two 
letters,  convince  you  ?"  **  I  will  believe,"  answered 
Chretien,  "  every  thing  that  Louise  has  said,  if  the 
priest  who  visited  us  the  other  day  appears  to-mor- 
row at  Lorette."  **  We  shall  see,"  remarked  Louise, 
and  speedily  left  her  friends  to  prepare  for  the  antici- 
pated contingencies  of  the  ©ventful  morning,  so  anx- 
iously desired,  and  yet  so  deeply  dreaded,  by  Diganu. 


t( 


LORETTB.  71 

NUPTIAL  CEREMONY. 

The  hopes,  the  dreams  of  former  days, 
Which  once  did  cheer  life's  gloom,  .  ' 

Arise  before  my  fearful  gaze, 
Like  spectres  from  the  tomb. 

A  SMALL  party  of  their  acquaintances  had  been  in- 
vited to  accompany  Diganu,  Louise,  and  Chretien  to 
Lorette,  who  were  not  apprized  of  their  intended  mar- 
riage. In  case  of  any  emergency,  they  were  selected 
as  witnesses  and  defender's.  Louise  appeared  in  the 
same  dress,  except  that  Guise's  winter  apparel,  being 
then  uaseasonable,  was  discarded.  After  they  had 
breakfasted,  she  retired,  to  commend  herself  to  God, 
and  his  fatherly  grace  and  protection.  When  their 
friends  began  to  assemble,  Louise  requested  to  see 
Diganu  and  Chretien  alone. 

**  I  most  sincerely  thank  you,  Chretien,"  Louise 
tenderly  remarked,  "  for  all  your  kindness  to  me.  I 
know  that  we  shall  see  each  other  no  more  after  this 
morning,  but  be  assured,  that  the  remembrance  of  your 
friendship  will  remain  as  long  as  memory  endures, 
and  will  ever  be  mingled  with  the  hope  of  meeting  you 
in  that  world  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling." 
Your  anticipations,  my  dear  Louise,  are  too  som- 
bre," answered  Chretien,  "  once  already  have  3'ou 
been  partly  rescued  from  misery,  and  I  hope  this  day 
will  witness  your  complete  deliverance."  She  offered 
him  her  hand  in  friendly  salutation,  with  a  melancholy 
shade  of  features,  totally  different  from  a  bride's  ordi- 
nary expressive  glow,  and  then  addressed  her  betroth- 
ed. "  All  that  is  in  my  trunk,  Diganu,"  said  Louise, 
*^  is  rightfully  yours,  and  to  you  I  restore  it.  But  this 
I  prAent  you  as  my  only  relic  and  my  most  precious 


•«( 


1; 


■■  K 


n 


LORETTE. 


remembrancer,"  giving  him  her  bible,  *'I  foresee  that 
you  will  value  it  for  my  sake.  Believe  in  it  as  I  do. 
I  trust  that  you  will  der'.vc  consolation  from  it  as  I 
have  done  ;  and  as  1  expect  never  more  to  return  to 
this  house,  it  will  be  the  best  memento  of  your 
Louise." 

The  feeling  was  so  oppressive,  that  she  sunk  into 
a  chair.  But  having  recovered  her  composare,  she 
knelt  down  and  prayed  to  the  Father  of  mercies  for 
her  friends,  and  for  her  own  preservation.  At  the 
close  of  her  short  devotions,  Louise  felt  reassured, 
and  remarked  to  Chretien,  "  if  we  meet  any  persons 
to-day  whom  i  know  I  will  inform  you."  Diganu  'n 
terposed,  "  I  cannot  go  to  Lorette,  my  heart  is  too 
overpowered  with  alarm."  **  No  matter,"  replied 
Louisa,  **  thus  to  live  and  be  tantalized  is  a  lingering 
consumption  ;  it  is  preferable  to  ascertain  the  final  re- 
sult. I  love  you  Diganu,  as  a  sister  might,  mt^st  ten- 
derly, for  your  kindness,  your  sympathy,  and  your 
virtues ;  but,  inexplicable  as  is  the  fact,  I  never  had 
the  slightest  connubial  attachment  or  inclination  for 
you."  "  This  is  truly  astonishing,"  subjoined  Di- 
ganu, *'  there  is  something  so  attractive  and  so  repul- 
sive in  all  your  words,  actions  and  character,  that  I 
accede  to  your  wishes,  gloomy  as  is  the  prospect.  We 
will  be  tortured  thus  no  longer.  Either  we  will  live 
together  inseparable,  or  wo  will  know  the  mysterious 
connexion  which  seems  both  to  unite  and  to  divide  us." 

Their  mutual  pungency,  which  flowed  from  the 
evils  that  the  friends  foreboded,  was  partly  alleviated 
during  the  ride  from  Quebec  to  Lorette,  by  the  con- 
solatory picture  which  Louise  drew  of  her  Christian 
exercises,  her  resignation  and  hope  in  God,  her  reso- 
lutions of  steadfastness,  and  in  her  meek  exuhation, 
that  her  purblind  instructions  had  been  so  far  eiiica' 


cious 


—.'-*" 


r 


LORGTTC. 


7i 


cious  throvgh  the  divitie  blessing,  in  enlightening  Di- 
ganu,  that  she  doubted  not  he  would  become  a  sincere 
believer  in  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  and  she  charged 
him  to  study  that  blessed  book,  her  bible.    "  But,** 
said  Diganu,  inter    iting  her,  **  why  did  you  not  re- 
tain it  for  ;^  our  own  comfort  V*     "  What  use  could  I 
make  of  it  ?"  added  Louise,  "  if  I  am  forcibly  sepa- 
rated from  you,  my  enemies  would  destroy  it,  and  per- 
secute me  the  more  for  having  found  it  in  my  posses- 
sion, but  if  I  return  to  Quebec  with  you,  dearest,"  and 
she  cast  upon  him  a  placid  smile,  which  Diganu  ever 
after  dwelt  upon  with  indescribable  emotions,  **then 
we  shall  study  it  together.     But  as  I  do  not  expect 
this  result,  I  have  provided  for  the  consequences.    A 
large  portion  of  its  holy  contents  I  have  treasured  up 
in  my  memory,  as  an  antidote  to  error,  an  incentive 
to  obedience,  and  a  fountain  of  comfort."     The  ele- 
vation and  spirituality  of  the  topics  to  which  they  had 
attended  during  the  latter  part  of  the  journey,  were 
peculiarly  appropriate,  and  beneficial  to  their  agonized 
hearts.     It  seemed  to  unite  them  in  a  novel  tie,  and 
Louise  was  soothed  by  the  conviction,  that  Diganu 
had  attained  some  Christian  knowledge  and  stability. 
At  the  extremity  of  the  village  the  party  halted,  and 
Chretien  having  informed  their  associates  of  the  object 
of  their  excursion,  proceeded  to  ascertain  if  the  priest 
was  ready  to  perform  the  ceremony.     Some  of  the  In- 
dians and  their  squaws,  with  the  children,  were  loung- 
ing near  the  entrance  of  the  church,  as  customary,  if 
any  strangers  arrived  or  were  expected.  When  Chre- 
tien inquired  for  the  priest,  he  was  directed  to  the 
church,  where  he  found  two  priests,  besides  the  cure, 
one  of  whom  he  recognised  as  the  same  who  had  visit- 
ed and  threatened  Diganu,  the  other  was  unknown. 
Two  strange  women  were  also  seated  near  the  altar, 


■■ 


■I 


74 


LORETTE. 


and  on  the  other  side,  the  two  Indian  females  who  had 
nursed  Louise  during  her  abode  at  Lorette.  This  ar- 
ray portended  evil,  which  was  not  diminished,  when, 
as  he  approached  the  cure,  who  was  robiid  for  the 
ceremony,  to  inquire  if  the  nuptial  party  might  ap- 
pear, the  priest,  whom  he  had  before  seen,  exchanged 
a  significant  and  half-smiling,  but  murky  look,  whh 
the  other  pretres,  and  the  two  women  who  were  near 
them. 

When  he  returned  to  his  friends  Chretien  was  most 
painfully  embarrassed,  but  to  Louise  and  Diganu  he  first 
announced  what  persons  he  had  seen  in  the  church. 
**  I  anticipated  it,"  saic^  Louise,  almost  sinking  to  the 
ground,  "but  I  am  pre  Dared  for  the  worst.  It  is  the 
will  of  God.  Here,  Clretien,  and  she  presented  him 
her  hand,  accept  my  last  adieu.  Remember  your  pro- 
mise. You  must  now  believe  all  that  I  have  asserted. 
Snap  the  chain  which  has  so  long  fettered  your  mind 
and  will.  Stand  close  by  me,  that  at  least  I  may 
have  time  to  make  known  the  parties  if  I  should  re- 
cognise any  of  them.  Comfort  Diganu  in  his  distress. 
Cultivate  your  mutual  friendship.  Study  ni}'  bible ! 
God  bless  you  !"  Diganu  stood  like  a  marble  statue. 
The  information  had  momentarily  overwhelnied  his 
faculties.  "  Diganu,  it  is  too  late,"  faintly  uttered 
Louise,  shuddering  as  she  spoke,  "  to  alter  our  plans. 
Trust  in  God  !    You  shall  hear  from  me." 

The  friends  wlio  perceived  the  alteration  in  Louise 
and  Diganu,  pressed  around  to  comfort  them.  It  be- 
came necessary  therefore  to  admonish  the  party  of  the 
cause  of  their  distress,  and  Chreiien  thus  remarked, 
*'  events  have  recently  occurred  of  a  very  extraordi- 
nary and  perplexing  nature,  and  the  appearance  of 
some  persons  whom  I  have  seen  in  the  church  has  in- 
crieased    our  eiiibarrassment."     The  gentlemen  and 

-  { 


LORETTB. 


78 


ladies,  especially  Chretien  and  the  bride-maid,  all 
avowed  their  resolution  to  assist,  and  to  oppose  any 
evil  which  might  be  attempted.  They  stopiHjd  at  that 
part  of  the  road  where  the  precise  spot  was  in  view 
whence  Louise  had  been  rescued,  and  to  which  they 
all  walked.  There  she  devoutly  blessed  God  for  his 
goodness,  again  expressed  her  gratitude  to  her  pre- 
servers, poured  forth  h«r  whole  heart  in  a  short  prayer 
for  Diganu  and  Chretien,  and  then  with  slow  and  fal- 
tering steps,  more  like  the  measured  procession  of  a 
funeral  than  the  joyous  movements  of  a  wedding,  they 
proceeded  to  the  church. 

Unknown  to  the  party,  as  soon  as  they  all  had  en- 
tered, the  principal  door  of  the  church  was  locked. 
Louise  was  veiled,  and  walked  between  Diganu  and 
Chretien,  leaning  on  the  arms  of  both  her  friends.  As 
they  moved  toward  the  altar,  Louise  uttered  a  loud 
shriek,  upon  which  all  her  attendants  stopped.  When 
she  recovered  her  fortitude,  she  remarked,  in  a  whis- 
per to  Diganu  and  Chretien,  **  The  priest  on  the  right 
of  the  cure  is  my  tormentor,  the  other  I  know  not. 
That  tall  woman  was  my  companion  to  Jacques  Car- 
tier,  and  I  suppose  on  my  other  journey.  The  other 
creature  is  Guise. 

Presently  they  advanced,  and  the  ceremony  was 
about  to  begin,  but  the  priest  who  had  visited  Diganu 
prohibited  the  marriage,  declaring  that  Louise  had 
dedicated  herself  to  the  church,  and  that  she  could  not 
be  discharged  from  her  vows.  This  statement  was 
peremptorily  denied  by  Louise,  Diganu,  and  Chre- 
tien, who  had  dismissed  their  fears,  and  whom  indig- 
nation had  emboldened  to  resolute  resistance.  The 
cure  therefore  proceeded,  but  during  his  ceremonial, 
the  other  priests  held  a  short  consultation,  and  pre- 
sently gave  a  signal  to  the  female  stranger,  who  sud- 


ti 


76 


LORBTTE. 


deiily  rushed  upon  Louise,  seized  her  by  the  arm,  and 
forbade  the  marriage.  Diganu  and  Chretien  could 
scarcely  master  the  fury,  so  as  to  retain  Louise  under 
their  protection*  When  she  had  become  a  little  calm- 
ed, she  turned  to  the  officiating  priest,  and  in  a  direful 
voice,  cried  out,  "  Cease  I  the  marriage  is  unlawful ! 
Diganu  and  Louise  are  brother  and  sister  !** 

A  death'like  stupor  instantly  seized  all  the  nuptial 
party.  The  priest  and  Guise  grinned  with  malicious 
delight.  **Come  here,"  said  the  woman,  addressing  the 
cure,  **  look  at  this  cross  on  her  forehead,  turning  back 
her  hair.  She  then  called  upon  their  friends  to  view 
it,  remember  that  cross,  it  is  a  sign  of  recognition  im- 
printed  by  her  mother."  Nothing  can  possibly  exceed 
the  really  profound  astonishment  of  the  youthful  friends, 
and  the  affected  surprise  of  the  cure  at  this  exhibition. 
•*  Look  at  this,"  contined  the  virago,  pointing  to  Di- 
ganu*s  head,  **  and  who  put  that  mark  on  the  boy  ] 
His  mother ;  the  same  fingers  inscribed  both.**  Chre- 
tien was  incensed  with  anger,  and  could  not  restrain, 
his  feelings,  **  Avaunt !"  said  he,  pushing  her  away,. 
**  if  they  are  brother  and  sister,  then,  as  Louise  is  a 
friendless  orphan,  Diganu  is  her  rightful  protector,,  and 
shall  be  her  defender  and  supporter,  until  this  mystery 
is  explained  and  their  relationship  is  proved."  "  He 
shall  not,*'  said  the  two  priests  together,  and  instantly 
rushed  toward  the  bridal  pair.  Diganu  and  Louise 
had  only  time  to  exchange  the  kiss  of  affection,  with 
her  fervent  "  God  bless  you,  Diganu,  adieu  !*'  ere  the 
priests  and  the  two  women,  with  some  assistants  whom 
they  had  concealed  to  aid  in  their  wickedness,  over* 
powered  the  young  men,  snatched  the  shrieking  and 
screaming  Louise  away,  and  hurried  her  through  the 
sacristy,  so  that  they  saw  her  no  more. 

Diganu,  Chretien,  and  their  friends  were  equally 


! 


LOBETTE. 


T7 


Q»and 

could 

under     11 

calm- 

lireful 

iwful! 


alarmed  and  stiipified  at  this  outrage  ;  and  especially 
when,  in  endeavouring  to  escape  from  the  church, 
they  found  all  egress  precluded.  The  priest  who  had 
visited  Diganu,  with  the  two  women  and  the  two 
squaws,  had  disappeared  with  the  sacristan,  when 
Louise  v/as  carried  off,  and  every  means  to  at  certain 
the  fate  of  Louise  was  destrojed  by  their  inability  to 
escape  from  the  church.  During  this  interval,  the 
women  and  the  priest  and  Louise  had  proceeded  in  a 
covered  carriole  toward  Quebec,  so  that  all  pursuit 
would  have  been  useless.  Wliile  they  were  thus  ago- 
nized for  Louise,  and  terrified  for  their  own  safety, 
after  a  tedious  time,  the  sacristan  again  entered,  and 
the  cure  instantly  began  to  reproach  Diganu  and  Chre- 
tien, menaced  them  with  all  the  curses  of  his  church, 
and  the  terrors  of  the  civil  law,  if  they  did  not  quietly 
depart.  *'  You  are  guilty  of  sacrilege,"  said  the  priest, 
*'  and  you  have  defiled  the  consecrated  place,  by  rais- 
ing a  tumult  and  making  a  contest  within  these  holy 
walls.  Retire  from  the  village  without  delay,  and  be 
thankful  if  no  worse  punishment  befall  you." 


THE  DISCOVERY. 

Well,  thou  art  gone,  and  I  am  left ; 

But,  0 !  how  cold  and  dark  to  me, 
This  world,  of  every  charm  bereft, 

Where  all  was  beautiful  with  thee ! 


,'i<^ 


Diganu  and  his  friends  returned  to  Quebec  with 
unutterable  emotions  of  sorrow  and  disappointment. 
The  melancholy  feelings  of  survivers  after  the  inter- 
ment of  a  beloved  relative,  areecstacy  compared  with 
their  sufferings.    Upon  their  arrival  at  Diganu's  house, 

7 


» 


J 


78 


LORETTB* 


the  feast  was  spread  ;  but  she,  who  was  to  have  been 
its  head  and  ornament,  had  vanished.  During  the 
evening,  Chretien  detailed  some  of  the  more  interest- 
ing facts  which  Louise  had  narrated  ;  and  his  friend 
was  partially  soothed  by  the  unanimous  decision  of 
their  companions,  that  it  was  very  probable  she  was 
his  sister :  and  that,  although  it  was  terrifying  to  re- 
flect upon  the  mode  of  separation  and  the  parties  who 
had  effected  it,  still  it  was  preferable  to  the  mar- 
riage, even  though  Diganu  and  Louise  would  have  been 
excusable,  from  ignorance  of  their  near  relationship. 

Nevertheless,  Diganu  and   Chretien  could  not  be 
satisfied.     Having  resolved  to  discard  the  priests  alto- 
gether, they  determined  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  judi- 
cial investigation.     They  applied  to  Rohoirsic,  a  law- 
yer, whose  well  known  opinions  of  the  priests  justified 
their  hope  that  the  labyrinth  might  be  explored.     He 
undertook  the  cause  with  great  alacrity ;  and  assured 
them  that  he  would  never  relax  in  the  pursuit,  until  the 
mystery  of  iniquity  was  revealed.    The  grand  difficulty 
consisted  in  selecting  the  person  upon  whom  to  fix  the 
charge    of  criminality.     It  appeared   that   the    cure 
could  only  be  summoned  as   a  witness,  because   to 
involve  him  as  an  accessary,  would  preclude  all   the 
testimony  which  his  knowledge  of  the  other  pe.rsons 
might  elicit.     The  women  were  entirely  beyond  cog- 
nizance.    Rohoirsic  advised  that  Diganu  and  Chretieu 
should  have  an   interview  with  the  Roman  prelate ; 
and  from  the  manner  in  which  he  was  affected  by  the 
information  the  ulterior  proceedings  could  be  partly 
determined. 

Soon  after  they  communicated  unto  thatpapal  ec- 
clesiastic, the  main  facts  only  respecting  the  propos- 
ed marriage,  and  the  outrageous  manner  in  which 
the  bride  had  been  forcibly  abduced  by  thepriests. 


LORETTB. 


7g 


been 


"Well,"  said  the  prelate,  **  anl   were  you  not  aware 
of  the   mortal  sin    you    were  aboi  t  to  commit?" — 
*'How,  Monsieur?"  replied  Diganii,  "  I  do  hot  com- 
prehend what  sin  there  could  be  in  marrying,  according 
to  the  law  of  God  and  man,  tlie  object  of  a  pure  and 
sincere  affection." — *' But  you  have  sp^d,"  retorted  the 
Jesuit,  '*  that  the  young  woman  had  been   dedicated 
to  the  church,  and  to  the  holy  life  of  the  convent." — 
**  Not  at  all,"  interposed  Chrietien,  "the  priest  said 
so,  but  Louise  herself  and  we   denied  it." — "  Ah  !" 
said  the  bishop,  assuming,  an   air  of  pompous  mi- 
tred dignity,  and  prelatical  contempt  for  his  visiters, 
and  do  you  think  that  I  shall  believe  the  asse  tions  of 
two  disorderly  young  men  in  preference  to  a  priest  of 
our  holy  church]     Besides,  you  say  that  the  young 
woman  was  your  sister,  how  ".an  you  dare  to  come  to 
me  with  a  complaint  of  this  kind  1" — "  If  you  please," 
replied  Diganu    "  I  stated,  that  the  priests  who  stole 
Louise  from  me  affirmed  that  she  was  my  sister  ;  but 
they  offered  no  proof  of  that  fact." — "  How  dare  you 
to  dispute  or  even  disbelieve  the  word  of  a  priest?" 
answered  the  pope's  legate,  his  whole   countenance 
being  inflated  with  wrath, "  knowyou  not  that  resistance 
to  the  authority  of  the  lawful  priests  is  rebellion  against 
God,  not  to  be  tolerated  even  in  thought,  much  less 
in  word   and  in   action?     For  this  contumacy,  you 
merit  the  censures  of  the  Church,  and  I  shall  dire**! 
your  cure  to  that  effect.     Before  he  absolves  you,   I 
shall  see  that  you  have  done  ample  penance,  and  that 
the  Church  receives  full  satisfaction.     When  you  next 
take  a  young  woman  to  live  with  you,  remember  that 
you  do  not  entice  a  postulante  or  a  novice  :  remember 
me,  depart."    This  conversation  was  convincing  proof 
that  the  Jesuit  prelate  w:as  acquainted  with  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  that  the  pontifical  shield  would   be 


83 


LORCTTE. 


advanced  to  screen  and  defend  his  subordinate  eccle- 
siastics. Diganu  and  Chretien  reported  their  Interview 
to  tile  attorney,  who  merely  remarked,  **  we  must 
see  the  cure  of  Lorette." 

Two  of  tlie  intended  nuptial  party  accompanird 
Rohoirsic,  Diganu  and  Chretien  ;  and  after  much  diffi- 
culty were  introduced  to  the  cure. — **  I  /egret  to  trou- 
ble you,"  said  the  lawyer,  '*  but  suits  are  ordered  to  be 
instituted  against  you  and  your  sacristan,  and  others, 
for  the  forcible  abduction  of  a  young  lady  during  the 
matrinwniHl  ceremony.  Notwitlistanding,  I  am  autho- 
rized to  efleryou,  that  if  yoii  will  become  king's  evi- 
dence, the  civil  action  and  tiie  criminal  information, 
so  far  as  you  concerned,  shall  be  withdrawn."  '*  Truly," 
answered  the  priest,  not  in  the  least  moved,  *'  and  who," 
castin-T  a  lowering  glance  at  Diganu  and  Chrfetien, 
"  will  have  tl:e  eflront?ry  to  support  those  allegationsT' 
•*  That  is  of  no  importance,"  replied  Rohoirsic,  "  a 
heinous  offence  against  all  that  is  holy  in  the  sight  of 
heaven  and  earth  has  been  committed  by  three  of  your 
priests;  and  if  there  be  any  law  and  justice  in  this 
province,  you  shall  receive  their  award."  *'  T>o  you 
understand,  sir,"  retorted  the  cure,  with  much  apparent 
sang-froid  and  disdain,  "  to  whom,  and  of  whom,  you 
talk  in  this  unprecedented  style  1  are  you  not  aware  of 
the  danger  which  attaches  to  yourself,  and  much  more 
to  your  companions,"  and  he  turned  up  his  nose,  curled 
his  lip,  and  elevated  his  head  with  well  stimulated  ar- 
rogance and  contempt,  "  by  your  threatened  proceed- 
ings?"^" I  understand  you,"  indignantly  responded 
the  lawyer,  but  I  despise  your  threats  equally  as  your 
favours ;  and  as  for  the  ruffians  at  your  command,  I 
defy  you  and  them.  Long  have  I, been  endeavouring 
to  ferret  out  your  secret  abominable  proceedings  ;  now 
1  have  a  perfectly  sufficient  clue,  and  in  spite  of  the 


^a 


LORETTE' 


81 


ic,  '"  a 


you 


\ 


craftiness  of  the  bishop  and  all  the  Jesuits  in  Canada, 
I  will  not  desist  until  this  mystery  of  wickedness  is  un- 
ravelled. If  you  will  come  forward  and  testify  what  you 
know,  you  shall  be  exonerated  ;  if  not,  I  forewarn 
you,  that  there  is  ample  evidence  to  convict  three  of 
your  order,  and  to  send  you  into  that  safe  keeping, 
where  you  will  not  have  the  power  to  kidnap  young 
women  as  victims  for  your  sensuality." 

The  cure  was  manifestly  disturbed  at  this  bold  and 
unequivocal  denunciation.  It  implied  a  knowledge  of 
the  arcana  of  their  lives,  which,  in  the  hands  of  so  in- 
flexible an  enemy  and  scrutinizer,  might  lead  to  very 
unpleasant  and  perilous  developments.  After  a  pause, 
therefore,  the  cure  mildly  rejoined,  **  this  matter  can 
possibly  be  compromised.  Your  demand,  however,  is 
not  within  my  power,  but  I  will  submit  the  whole  case 
to  the  bishop,  and  inform  you  of  his  decision."  "  This 
avails  not,"  answered  the  1  wyer,  **  the  prelate  is  al- 
ready apprised  of  this  matter.  He  has  been  consulted, 
and  is  a  virtual  accessary  to  the  crime,  probably  both 
before  and  after  the  outrage.  This  was  implied  in  his 
own  declaration.  Instead  of  directing  his  censures 
against  these  violators  of  female  purity,  and  these 
transgressors  of  all  right,  law  and  decorum,  hepalliates  . 
their  enormity,  pleads  the  official  character  of  the  cri- 
minal perpetrators,  and  denounces  the  loudest  thunders 
of  ecclesiastical  indignation  against  the  injured,  ago- 
nized sufferer,  who  has  been  robbed  of  his  consolation, 
and  his  most  precious  treasure."  "  If  the  facts  be  as 
you  describe  them,"  artfully  replied  the  priest,  "it  will 
be  preferable  for  me  to  represent  them  to  my  ecclesi- 
astical superior^  He  will  receive  ray  statement  with 
more  regard  tha%|i;  complaint  from  the  laity."  This 
Jesuitical  fii^^f^nl^  manifestly  to  gain  time.  But 
tlie  lawyer  djLtBKmpf^.^s  the  delay  would  not  affect 


'7* 


■w«»*; 


I 


83 


LORETTE. 


(  I 

\  ■  r 

i 


11  = 


the  despatch  of  any  legal  proceedings,  some  discovery 
might  he  made  during  tlie  interval,  especially  as  LomIso 
had  promised  that  Diganu  should  hear  from  iier ;  and 
although  iliat  event  was  scarcely  to  he  anticipated,  yet 
in  her  rase  it  was  not  impossihle.  Upon  these  terms 
ihe  parties  separated. 

As  the  cure  delayed  his  answer  to  the  proposal  made 
to  him,  Rohoirsic  again  informed  him  iliat  he  had  ob- 
tained overwiielmiiig  evidence  to  convict  the  parties, 
and  that  all  attempts  to  evade  the  investigation  would 
be  fruitless,  as  the  governor  was  informed  of  the  ex- 
traordinary circumstances  connected  with  the  affair  of 
Lorette,  aud  had  promised  his  executive  iuterference, 
,  if  the  ordinary  legal  process  should  not  be  sufficient  to 
elicit  the  truth.  This  communication,  being  too  au- 
thoritative to  be  resisted,  wis  t  Tcctual.  A  few  days 
after  he  had  received  it,  the  cure  thus  replied  to  the 
lawyer,  "  i  am  directed  to  state,  that  as  speedily  as 
practicable,  a'l  explicit  answer  will  be  given  to  you  con- 
cerning the  whole  case.'* 

Nearly  three  months  had  elapsed  when  the  detested 
pretre,  who  befoio  had  destroyed  their  peace,  entered 
the  house.  Diganu  and  Chretien  recoiled  at  the  sij^ht 
of  him,  as  if  a  black  snake  had  darted  upon  them. 
His  features  and  manners  appeared  to  be  totally 
changed.  The  former  bore  an  aspect  of  benignity, 
and  the  Intter  were  polished  and  affable.  The  friends 
expressed  not  the  most  distant  courtesy,  or  any  token 
of  civility.  **  I  come,*'  said  the  Jesuit,  after  a  pause, 
as  if  he  had  expected  them  to  inquire  into  his  object, 
**  to  pacify  your  minds  respecting  Louise."  It  was  a 
cunning  prelude.  He  well  knew  that  her  name  would 
constitute  a  charm,  and  his  pmtipOTjt  to  an  audience. 
Diganu  and  Chretien  nodcltii  ii|^*l|^  ftiid  the  latter 
said,  **  on  that  account  wd  are  tiW$  to  receive  your 
communication*" 


LOHETTE' 


83 


"  Your  marriage,"  continued  the  pretre,  "  could  not 
have  been  perniitled  on  account  of  your  fraternal  rela- 
tion." Diganu  liaslily  interrupted  him,  *'  That  remains 
to  be  provt'd.  I  know  so  much  of  your  knavish  arti- 
fices and  impostures,  that  1  will  now  believe  nothing 
where  the  interests  of  your  church  and  of  your  order 
are  concerned,  though  all  the  priests  in  Canada  swear 
to  its  truth."  A  monjentary  flush  of  wrath  passed  over 
the  Jesuit's  countenance,  which  was  immediately  fol- 
lowed hy  a  derisive  smile.  "  Diganu,"  replied  the 
priest, "  it  is  of  no  importance  what  you  and  your  friend 
believe.  No  other  mode  of  injpeding  an  unlawful 
marriage  existed.  Circumstances  may  be  true,  which 
it  is  diliicult  or  dangerous  to  prove.  It  will  be  ruinous 
to  you  to  produce  the  testimony,  which  shall  absol'itely 
convince  you  of  the  certain  fact,  that  you  are  the  son 
of  Louise's  mother."  **  What  care  I  for  ruin  *?"  re- 
torted Diganu,  overpowered  with  distress,  "  who  am 
I  I  what  am  1 1  what  have  I  been?  who,  except  Chre- 
tien, cares  for  me?  What  difierence  should  I  fvel,  if 
to-morrow  I  wre  seized  and  shipped  to  Europe  ?  I 
should  only  ha. e  to  rely  upon  my  own  exertions  to 
obtain  omfort  there,  the  same  as  I  have  vo  do  in 
Quebec.'' 

When  he  had  thus  effused  his  half  thoughtless  solilo- 
quy, the  priest  resumed  his  remarks.  *'  Not  so  fast : 
who  watched  over  you  in  infancy  1  who  provided  for 
you  in  youth?  who  contrived  for  you  a  tolerable  educa- 
tion ?  who  supplied  your  wants  ?  who  advised  you  to 
engage  in  business  ?  and  who  has  often  befriended  you, 
when  you  wanted  pecuniary  assistance  to  carry  ii  on 
successfully?"  **  Chretien  and  his  father,"  answered 
Diganu,  "  and  except  Louise,  I  never  yet  saw  any  other 
human  creature  who  appeared  to  feel  the  least  solici- 
tude respecting  m<'.**      "Very  good!"  added  the 


84 


LORETTB. 


pretre,  "  then  you  suppose  that  Chretien's  father,  for 
so  many  years,  has  shown  all  this  kindness  to  you  for 
nothing,  out  of  his  own  small  income  ?" 

A  gleam  of  light  suddenly  irradiated  their  minds; 
and  there  was  a  ming  ed  flash  of  surprise  and  inquiry 
indicated  by  the  countenances    both  of  Digaiiu  and 
Chretien.     The  priest  instantly  perceived  the  advan- 
tage, which  he   had  so   dexterously  attained,  "It  is 
enough,"  he  next  remarked,  "there  is  another  reason 
for  Louise's  separation  from  you.     She  is  strongly  sus- 
pected of  having  imbibed  very  heretical  notions  from 
an  old  woman,  whom  si  o  was  appointed  sometimes  to 
visit,  that   she  might  understand  how  to  perform  the 
offices  of  charity  for  the  sick,  th^  poor,  and  the  afflicted. 
That  old  woman  was  discovered,  after  her  death,  to 
have  been   an   apostate  from   our   holy  mother,  the 
church."      Here   Diganu   and   Chretien   smiled,   and 
involuntarily  displayed  a  look  of  contemptuous  aver- 
sion ;  wh  .:h  was  noticed  by  the  Jesuit.    "  I  understand 
you,'^  he  suljoined,  "  but  more  of  that  point  hereafter. 
This  is  now  the  reason  for  hi  r  being  removed  from 
you  ;  although  after  your  avowed  intimacy,  even  your 
mutual  conviction  that  she  is  your  sister,  would  render 
her  residence  with  you  improper ;    and  as  she  was 
originally  designed  fur* the  convent,  it  is  determined  to 
restore  her  to  her  rotiiement  and  diities,  that  she  may 
be  reclaimed  from  her  heresy  and  disobedience  to  the 
church."     "  It. is  all  unavailing,"  replied  Diganu,  "  I 
am  resolved  at  all  risks  to  know  her  fate,  and  to  have 
the  fact,  that  Louise  is  the  daughter  of  my  mother, 
demonstrated  to   my  satisfaction."     '*  I  warn  you," 
said  the  priest,  "  that  your  obstinacy  in  this  respect, 
Diganu,  will   be  not  only  your  own  ruin,  but  that  it 
will  be  attended  with  the  greatest  danger  to  all  your 
associates,  who  were  recognised  in  the  church  at  Lo- 


fett 
intt 
niu 
pet 
wa 
gar 


ttiiw'  I'lmiteliiildifr 


'^  fpr 
ou  for 

linds; 
quiry 
and 

d  van- 
It 


LORETTE. 


85 


?> 


rette,  when  your  incestuous  marriage  was  so  seasonably 
interrupted."     "  Why  was  not  our  relationship  com- 
municated before  ?"  asked  Diganu,  with  irritated  im- 
petuosity ;  "  it  is  evident,  that  the  place  where  Louise 
was  concealed,  was  known  to  some  of  your  ruffian 
gang."    A  strong  expression  of  angry,  scornful  emotion 
here  perturbed  for  a  moment  tiie  otherwise  serene  fea- 
tures of  tlie  pretre,    '*  And  she  might  have  been  left  to 
me,"  said  Digmnu,  *'  at  least,  that  I  might  experimen- 
vally  understand  what  one  of  the  endeared  connexions 
of  donjestic  life  includes."    *'  I  have  told  you  already," 
replied  the  priest,jwitli  his  first  suavit}^  of  manner,  "that 
no  evidence  could  have  been  adduced  to  convince  you, 
without  involving  you  both  in  more  misery,  than  even 
your  sudden  and  coerced  separation.     Your  mind  will 
be  speedily  at  rest,  by  an  attachment  for  another  female, 
and  Louise  will  be  restored  to  the  bosom  of  the  church, 
from   which,  she  has  so   perversely  or   thoughtlessly 
strayed."     "  Nevi 
fervid  excitement 
induce  Louise,  while  she  is  in  her  senses,  again  to  be 
united  with   your  abominable  craft."     "  Most   excel- 
k^nt  1    Diganu,"   answered  the   pretre,  "then   Louise 
has  improved  her  time  nobly.     I  perceive,  that  either 
love  or  folly,   has  infected  you  with  her  own  mania." 
**  Mania  or  not,"   returned   Diganu,  wiMi  unguarded 
exasperation,  "  I  speak  as  I  feel;  and  will  do  it  in  full 
at  the  proper  time  and  place.     I  believe,  that  your 
religion  was  contrived  ir-  Itell,  and  that  you,  Roman 
priests,  are  no  better  than  fiends  incarnate." 

Chretien  was  terrified  at  his  friend's  imprudent  and 
dangerous  sincerity.  The  Jesuit  contrived,  however, 
to  conceal  his  cxacerlrated  feelings,  vhile  lie  replied 
with  all  the  composure,  which  i)e  coulcii  possibly  assume, 
"  I  thank  you  for  your  candour ;  your  avowal  now 


,   no  never!"    said   Diganu,   with 
"  no  force,  no  tortures  will  ever 


86 


LORETTEJ 


I'll 


places  us  upon  a  different  relation  to  each  other.  Know 
then,  Diganu,  I  dread  neither  your  opinions,  nor  your 
statements  ;  and  of  this  fact,  you  have  full  proof,  by 
my  visiting  you  alone  in  your  own  house.  Had  I  been 
afraid  of  your  menaced  legal  proceedings,  or  of 
Rohoirsic,  or  the  king's  bench,  or  even  of  the  governor, 
I  should  not  have  risked  my  person,  by  appearing  unto 
you  ;  and  had  Chretien  withdrawn  from  the  room,  I 
should  have  suspected  his  intention,  tq  procure  help 
to  detain  me,  and  should  have  fled.  The  wretched 
consequences,  whatever  they  might  have  been,  would 
haye^  fallen  upon  -yourself  alone."  This  practical 
avowal  of  daring  fRarle^sness,  perplexed  Diganu.  It 
seemed  that  his  tormentors,  by  some  inscrutable  means, 
had  him  so  completely  in  their  power,  that  they  could 
make  him  just  as  they  pleased,  the  foot- ball  of  their 
amusement.  His  fortitude  was  not  relaxed,  but  he 
began  to  falter  in  his  pertinacity.  The  lynx-eyed 
Jesuit  discerned  his  internal  conflict,  and  adroitly  seized 
the  occasion  additionally  to  embarrass  him,  "Diganu,'* 
said  he,  *'  I  come  here  as  your  friend."  "  Friend  !" 
retorted  the  son  of  sorrow,  vehemently  interrupting  him, 
"then  what  is  friendship  but  a  name?  if  you  are  a 
friend,  what  is  an  enemy  1"  "  We  shall  not  now  enter 
upon  abstract  discussions,"  continued  the  pretre,  '*  I 
have  business  of  more  interest.  I  repeat  my  declara- 
tion, that  I  come  to  visit  you  as  a  friend.  Nothing 
can  alter  the  fact,  that  Louise  is  your  sister.  All  the 
authority  of  the  government  cannot  discover  her  retreat, 
or,  if  that  could  be  ascertained,  dare  not  attempt  to 
remove  her.  You  will  see  her  no  more,  I  presume,  in 
this  world.  That  is  sufficient.  But  you  are  free, 
capable  of  enjoyment ;  and  if  you  had  continued  in 
your  dutiful  obedience  to  the  church,  you  might  have 
been  prosperous  and  happy,  without  trouble.    Now 


yoi 
cari 
he' 
at 

yoi 


LORETTE^ 


87 


5» 


you  are  denounced  by  the  bishop,  as  a  heretic."  "  I 
care  not,"  Diganu  scornfully  uttered,  '*  who,  what  is 
he*?  a  fit  confederate  of  the  ungodly  priests,  who  were 
at  Lorette." 

"  Take  care  !"  subjoined  the  priest,  *'^how  yon  'itter 
your  opinions  upon  these  subjects  to  others.  I  excuse 
them  from  the  agitation  of  your  feelings,  and  the  spe- 
cies of  delirium  which  comes  over  you  when  you  think 
and  talk  of  Louise.  Great  pains  have  been  taken  to 
mollify  the  bishop,  whose  high  ecclesiastical  dignity 
you  so  deeply  offended,  and  whosse  apostolic  spiritual 
authority  you  so  contumeliously  defied.  I  know  that 
you  are  an  incorrigible  heretic,'*  Chretien  stared  with 
astonishment,  *'  do  not  affect  surprise,"  said  the  pretre, 
addressing  himself  to  Chretien,  "  you  alse  are  placed 
upon  the  list  of  the  suspected,  and  nothing  but  strict 
and  uninterrupted  conformity  to  the  laws  of  the  church 
and  the  commands  of  its  heaven-appointed  priests, 
will  save  you  from  the  terrors  of  that  sentence  of 
greater  excommunication,  which  it  denounces  against 
all  apostates." — At  this  folly,  Diganu  looked  unutter- 
able dislike,  mingled  with  profound  contempt  for  such 
a  fallacious  description  and  such  an  arrogant  claim. — 
**  I  know  that  you  are  a  heretic,  Diganu,"  the  pretre 
continued,  *'  but  you  are  pitied  on  account  of  disap- 
pointment, which  on  your  part  was  involuntary  ;  and 
you  both  are  respected  for  your  delivering  Louise  from 
her  danger,  and  for  your  subsequent  tender  care  and 
brotherly  affection  of  her.  This  has  been  explained 
to  the  bishop,  who  was  soothed  by  the  account  of  your 
kindness  to  your  sister,  and  he  has  condescended  to 
remove  from  you  the  censures  of  the  church  which  he 
had  pronounced." 

**  I  care  neither  for  his  censure  nor  his  praise," 
answered  Diganu,  "  I  saw  enongh  of  him  to  induce 


88 


LORETTE 


it    . 


me  to  have  no  more  connexion  either  with  him,   or 
with  any  of  his  inferior  pests  of  this  province." — Hear 
me,'*  added  the  Jesuit,  with  an  unahered  countenance 
and    tone,   **  you    will  be    indulged    in  your  heresies 
without  notice,  provided  that  you  do  not  assail  the  sa- 
cred persons  and  characters  of  the  holy  priesthood." 
Diganu   ejaculated-- *' Holy     priests!     then    what  is 
devilish?"     Th'?   prptre  seemed  not  to   hoar   him. — 
*'  The  same  persons  unknown  to  you,"  he  continued, 
**  who  hitherto  have  directed  your  junior  course,  will 
be  always  ready  to  serve-  you  :  but  it  is  upon  one  con- 
dition only — that  you  withdraw  all  legal .  measures  in 
reference  to  your  separation  from  Louise,  and  that  you 
never  again   publicly    introduce   that  painful    occur- 
rence."— '*  It   is   impossible  !"    replied   Diganu — "  I 
never  shall  be,  I  never  can  be  at  peace,  until  the  mys- 
tery respecting  my  relation  to  Louise  is  satisfactorily 
explained." — "  Once    more   I  repeat,"    rejoined    the 
pretre,  "  it  cannot  be  done  personally  to  you.     Those 
individuals  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  as  far  as  practi- 
cable, wish  to  relieve  your  anxieties  upon  that  point, 
and   have  proposed  a  plan,   to  which,   if  you  accede, 
all  disputation  will  forever  be  termiLated.     Will  you 
confide  in  Monsieur  Rohoirsic  ? — will  you  consent  to 
any  arrangement  which   he   may  make  ?     And   if  he 
can  be  convinced  that  Louise  is  your  sister,  will  you 
be  contented  1" 

Diganu  cast  an  inquiring  look  upon  Chretien.  Af- 
ter a  short  pause — '*  I  do  not  want  your  answer  this 
evening,"  said  nie  pretre,  "  reti?ct  upon  the  subject 
f'hen  you  are  more  compo«<»ed.  Conswier  whclh<T  the 
complete  assurance  of  your  confidential  advorato,  and 
in  this  case  his  own  inclinations  will  make  him  faith- 
ful to  you,  would  settle  your  own  mind.  If  you  please, 
consult  your  professional  adviser;  and  I  will  see  you 


\ 


i 


him,    or 

" — Hear 

itenance 

heresies 

il  the  sa- 

stliood." 

what  is 

him. — 

3ntinued, 

irse,  will 

one  con- 

asures  in 

that  yon 

1    occur- 

niu — "  I 

the  mys- 

sfactorily 

inef]    the 

Those 

IS  practi- 

at  point, 

I  accede. 

Will  you 

)nsent  to 

id   if  he 

will  you 

;n.  Af- 
iiwer  this 
suhject 
iher  the 
ate,  and 
m  faith- 
j  please, 
see  you 


LORETTB. 


•i 


again  for  your   ultimate   decision."     By    Chretien^s 
advice,  Diganu  accepted  this  proposition :  and  imme- 
diately after  expressing  his  assent,  the  priest  said, 
♦*  To  prove  that  the  parties  with  whom  you  are  so 
deeply  offended,  for  what  you  consider  their  unpar- 
donable outrage,  have  no  design  further  to  pain  you,  I 
am  requested  to  present  you  this  trifle,  offering  him  a 
bag,  not  as  a  compensation  for  your  anguish,  but  to 
reimb'irse  your  expenditures  for  Loui'=^o/* — "  Trash  V 
replied  Diganu,  contemptuously  spurning  at  the  prof- 
fered gold,  what  can  recompense  me  for  the  pungent 
sorrow  which  I  have  endured  1" — '*  I  repeat,"  said  the 
pretre,  '*  that  the  contents  of  this  bag  are  not  intended 
as  a  cordial  for  your  sorrows,  but  as  an  act  of  justice. 
To  a  y6ung  man  with  a  small  business,  just  entering 
active  life,  the  additional  expenses  to  which  you  were 
subject,  through  the  sickness  of  Louise,  and  her  resi- 
dence with  you,  are  not  unimportant.     Chretien,  take 
charge   of  that  bag ;    probably  Diganu  yet   may  be 
induced  to  accept  its  contents,  for  the  sake  of  his  sis- 
ter.    Good  night !"  and  he  hastily  departed. 

Chretien  was  gratified  to  perceive,  that  through  this 
interview  with  the  priest,  Diganu's   heart  gradually 
became  mere  resigned,  and  more  disposed  to  credit  the 
statement,  that  Louise  was  his  sister.     If  even  a  delu- 
sion, Chretien  judged,  that  the  only  method  to  allevi- 
ate Diganu*s  grief  was  to  encourage  his  belief  of  it, 
for  all  hope  of  ever  meeting  Louise  again  was  a  pal- 
pable deception.     Chretien,  therefore,  encouraged  the 
sentiment,   until  Diganu  began  to  consider  that  their 
separation,  under  all  the  circumstances,  if  he  w  s  her 
brother,   was  preferable,  while  he  felt  not  the  least 
abatement  of  his  detestation,  either  for  the  mode  or 
the  ageiits. 

Some  days  after  the  Jesuit's  vuit,  a  parcel  for 

8 


I 


90 


LORETTE. 


Diganu  was  received,  which,  upon  being  opened,  con- 
tamed   a  letter  and  a  large  package  of  louis  d'ors. 
Diganu  requested   Chretien  to  count  them,  to  replace 
them  in  the  bag,   and  to  seal  it,  while  he  perused  the 
letter.     He  had  read  but  a  few  lines,  when  he  betrayed 
great  agitation.     After  a  moment's  reflection,  he  arose, 
and  drew  from  his  desk  the  letter  which  he  had  for- 
merly received  prohibiting  his  marriage  with  Louise. 
**  It  is  the  same,"  he  said,   **  most  extraordinary  !'* 
Chretien  inquired  the  cause  of  his  emotion.     '*  Another 
letter,"  answered  Diganu,  "  in  the  same  hand-writing 
as   before.     We  must  unravel  this  strange   circum- 
stance."    The  letter  was   evidently  written    by  the 
same  woman  who  had  despatched  the  former  terrifying 
scroll. 
Diganu  : 

**  It  is  of  no  use,  Diganu,  lo  oppose  the  truth.     Lou- 
ise  is  your   sister.     I  tell  you  again,   as  you  heard 
at  Lorette,  the  same  motherly  hands  stamped  the  cross 
on  both  your  heads,  on  purpose  that  you  might  be  re- 
cognised whenever  it  might  be  necessary  to  interfere 
in  your  concerns.     Father  and  mother,  you  and  Lou- 
ise never  knew,  although  you  have  never  been  from 
under  their  control.     From  this  time,  they  will  have  no 
further  concern  with  you.     Louise  is  as  comfortable 
as  her  heretical  temper  will  allow.     She  has   made 
both  you  and  Chretien  heretics  ;  but  the  holy  bishop 
and  priests,  mercifully  believing  that  you  are  not  now 
exactly  in  your  right  mind,  postpone  their  sentence 
against  you.     You  must  give  up  your  law-suits,  or  else 
worse  will  come  upon  you.     You  received  a  letter  be- 
fore, and  you  found  every  word  of  it  true.     Remem- 
ber,  therefore,  my  present  advice.     Hearken  to  the 
priest's   proposal.      You   shall   not    bring  the   busi- 
ness to  a  trial.     The  lawyer  will  not  be  touched; 


d'' 


T 


LORETTE. 


91 


because  as  he  is  such  an  enemy  to  the  bishop  and  the 
priests,  if  any  harm  should  come  to  him,  their  reve- 
rences would  be  charged  with  having  instigated  it ;  but 
for  the  rest  of  you  no  person  is  concerned.  Therefore, 
mark  me,  if  you  persist  in  your  obstinacy,  Louise 
will  die  unknown  and  where  no  earthly  power  can  ever 
discover  it ;  and  you,  Diganu,  with  Chretien,  shall 
follow  her,  struck  by  an  invisible  hand,  and  in  such  a 
manner,  that  the  world  shall  pronounce  you  both 
suicides  after  your  exit.  I  have  sent  you  some  gold  ; 
make  a  right  use  of  it.  Attend  to  your  business. 
Never  gamble  ;  that  is  the  road  to  ruin.  Get  all  the 
money  you  can.  Never  trouble  yourself  about  the 
priests  and  nuns.  Be  cautious  what  kind  of  a  woman 
you  marry.  Do  not  talk  about  our  religion.  Keep 
your  mouth  close.  Watch  your  neighbours.  Take 
care  of  yourself  and  your  wealth  ;  then  you  can  do  as 
you  please.  Mind  number  one  ;  and  all  will  be  well ! 
Adieu !  this  is  the  last  that  you  will  ever  hear  of 
Louise  !" 

"  Very  good !"  said  Chretien,  "  the  old  hag,  as  Louise 
truly  named  her,  knows  the  ways  of  the  world." — "  It 
is  very  surprising,  Chretien,"  remarked  Diganu,  "that 
your  father  and  mother,  who  brought  me  up,  should 
never  have  mentioned  any  hint  of  all  these  matters. 
Do  you  think  it  possible,  that  they  are  ignorant  of 
what  the  priest  explained,  and  what  this  letter  im- 
plies?"— "Certainly!"  replied  his  ^riend,  "  I  have 
heard  my  father  and  mother  often  declare,  that  they 
knew  nothing  about  you ;  except  that  when  they  went 
to  Quebec,  ihey  always  stopped  at  one  house,  and 
soon  after  they  arrived,  a  man  or  woman  used  to  call 
and  inquire  for  you,  find  out  what  you  wanted,  and 
give  them  clothes  for  you,  and  groceries  and  other 
domestic  supplies,  as  much  as  they  wished.     But  who 


r-"*"*JJ»J|W 


93 


LORETTE. 


they  were,  or  where  they  lived,  they  do  not  know  at 
this  hour ;  and  I  was  only  ten  years  old,  when  we  first 
came  together  to  Quebec." 

.  Diganu  and  Chretien  visited  the  lawyer,  recounted 
the  conversation  with  the  Jesuit  priest,  and  showed 
the  letter  which  had  been  received  prior  to  the  affair 
at  Lorette,  and  that  delivered  a  few  days  before  their 
interview.  "  There  is,"  remarked  Rohoirsic,  "  an 
appearance  of  truth  about  this  circumstance,  which 
involves  prudential  questions  of  great  importance. 
Doubtless  Louise  is  immured  in  some  dungeon  where 
no  earthly  power  can  save  her ;  and  it  is  not  less  cer- 
tain, that  to  hinder  the  legal  investigation  of  the  story 
of  Louise,  they  will  execute  their  vengeance.  If 
they  resolve  to  murder,  nothing  can  save  you.  The 
priest's  order  will  be  obeyed  ;  his  servile  tool  has  no 
conscience,  but  the  pretre*s  command.  Even  could 
the  investigation  be  pursued  to  its  close,  and  the  fact 
that  Xouise  was  Diganu's  sister  be  proved,  it  would 
only  secretly  banish  those  ruffians  from  the  province, 
by  episcopal  mandate,  while  your  lives,  as  they  de- 
clare, would  immediately  be  sacrificed.  Against  their 
wiles,  I  am  convinced  that  there  is  no  security ;  be- 
cause any  plan  which  they  project,  will  be  joyfully 
undertaken ;  and  by  representing  you  as  two  heretics, 
their  ignorant  disciples  would  fancy  themselves  dis- 
playing to  God  their  highest  service  and  allegiance 
when  they  deprive  you  of  life.  Before  you  see  the 
priest  again,  I  shall  doubtless  hear  from  the  cure,  and 
I  will  advise  you  without  delay  what  answer  to  return 
to  him." 

On  the  following  day,  the  priest  of  Lorette  called 
upon  Rohoirsic  ;  and  after  stating  that  there  were  in- 
trinsic and  peculiar  difficulties  in  the  case,  proposed 
that  the  counsellor  should  urge  upon  his  client  the 


% 


LORETTE. 


03 


iinted 
lowed 
affair 
their 


acceptance  of  the  priest's  proposal.  "  The  parties 
are  willing,"  said  the  cure,  *'  to  confide  to  you  full 
proof  of  the  relationship  between  Diganu  and  Louise, 
upon  your  engagement  of  inviolable  secrecy.  No 
evidence  can  be  more  satisfactory  ;  but  the  whole  is 
of  so  delicate  a  nature,  that  a  public  scrutiny  never 
will  be  admitted,  under  any  pretext  or  claim  ;  and  it 
will  be  evaded  in  spite  of  all  the  civil  authorities." 
The  lawyer  expressed  his  acquiescence  ;  and  the 
priest,  to  secure  his  favour,  told  him  to  accept  no  fee 
from  Diganu.  '*  If  you  can  t«rminate  the  affair,"  ad- 
ded the  cure,  "  you  shall  be  amply  remunerated  for 
your  mediation." 

During  the  interval  from  the  strange  priest's  visit 
to  Diganu,  Chretien  thought  that  the  evidence  was  so 
plausible  as  to  authorize  belief,  or  deeming  it  fruitless 
to  persevere,  he  had  exerted  all  his,^nfluence  to  procure 
Diganu's  consent  to  the  offer.  His  grand  argument 
was  this,  that  as  the  parties  would  not  unveil  the 
whole  mystery,  Diganu  could  not  be  more  satisfied ; 
that  if  the  lawyer  was  convinced,  no  additional  evi- 
dence was  requisite ;  and  that  as  Rohoirsic  was  so 
embittered  against  the  priestcraft,  and  so  shrewd  in 
discovering  a  fraud,  it  was  most  probable  that  they 
would  not  attempt  to  impose  upon  him,  as  it  would 
only  now  give  him  a  new  advantage  over  them.  This 
impression  was  increased  by  the  counsellor's  views 
and  opinions,  who  engaged  that  he  would  admit 
nothing  less  as  truth,  than  testimony  which  would 
convince  Diganu  and  Cliretien,  if  it  were  submitted 
unto  them.  The  next  evening  the  priest  entered.  He 
accepted  Diganu's  promise,  cautioned  him  to  be  wary 
in  the  expression  of  his  opinions,  and  admonished  him 
much  to  the  same  purport,  as  the  woman  had  done  in 
the  letter  which  he  had  received.    "  This  business 

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LORSTTE. 


will  be  closed  to-morrow,"  he  added,  as  he  was  re- 
tiring, "  on  the  next  day  yon  will  hear  from  your 
counsellor :  after  which,  I  shall  see  you  once  more ; 
till  then,  adieu  V 

Diganu  and  Chretien  very  impatiently  waited  for  the 
lawyer's  information.  As  soon  as  he  entered,  Digaiiu's 
feverish  excitement  mingled  with  his  sorrowful  agita- 
tion, compressed  all  his  feelings  into  a  short  question 
which  he  abruptly  proposed  to  Rohoirsic.  "  Is  it  true  V* 
said  the  youth ;  but  he  read  the  reply  in  his  features,  be- 
fore the  words  were  uttered,  "  Louise,  without  doubt,  is 
your  half  sister."  Diganu  replied,"  Then  one  half  of  my 
burden  and  my  grief  is  at  once  removed.    Can  you  give 
me  any  of  the  evidence  which  has  produced  that  convic- 
tion in  your  mind  1"  "  Everything,  of  course,"  answered 
Rohoirsic,  "  which  could  involve  any  of  the  parties  in 
ortain  absolute  disgrace  has  been  concealed,  as  well 
as  their  names :   but  an) pie  circumstantial  proof  has 
been  presented  to  me,  that  you  are  the  children  of  dif- 
ferent fathers  by  the  same  mother.  Two  baptismal  re- 
gisters have  been  produced  in  which  two  cliildren  are 
recorded  as  still  living.     Francis  D.  is  the  eldest ;  and 
you  are  described  as  having   a  peculiar  cross  with 
a  D  marked  on  your  crown  ;  I  siiould  recognise  it  at 
once."     Diganu  offered  his  head  for  inspection,  "  The 
very  same,"  added  the  lawyer,  after  a  close  scrutiny  ; 
then  addressing  Chretien,  **  Did  you  ever  notice  this 
remarkable   oval  figure  ?"     Chretien   replied,    *'  Not 
particularl)' ;  but  a  similar  mark  in  Louise's  cross  was 
very  distinguishable."     The  lawyer  thus  explained  his 
meaning :  "  That  mark  was  intended  to  point  out  to 
the  parents  only  in  case  of  necessity,  the  mother.     It 
is  a  capital  Greek  Theta,  and  divulges  the  two  first 
letters  of  her  name."    Diganu  instantly  asked,  **  Are 
you  acquaiAted  either  with  that,  or  the  namcA  of  our 


LORETTE, 


«^ 


fathers  V* — "  No,"  returned  the  advocate,  "  except 
that  the  D  in  your  cross  was  the  initial  letter  of  his 
name,  as  the  M  in  the  cross  of  Louise  was  the  first 
letter  of  her  father's  appellative;  these  particulars 
were  all  that  were  mentioned.  From  the  details 
which  you  have  given,  and  from  a  combination  of 
various  circumstances,  I  might  indulge  a  suspicion : 
but  these  Jesuits  are  so  deceitful,  that  where  their 
craft  is  concerned,  you  can  safely  rely  upon  nothing 
which  they  say  or  do.  But  now  I  have  to  ask  you 
one  question  ;  describe  the  person  of  Louise  T'  Di- 
ganu  and  Chretien  portrayed  her  minutely ;  "  The 
very  same,"  observed  the  lawyer,  "  and  in  the  baptis- 
mal register  she  is  recorded  as  Louise  M.,  the  sister 
of  Francis  D.,  and  sixteen  months  younger,  with  a 
similar  cross  on  her  forehead  and  the  letter  M  in  it." 
Chretien  remarked,  *'  Nothing  can  be  more  alike  than 
the  two  crosses ;  and  Diganu  and  I  often  mentioned 
that  other  mark  in  Louise's  cross,  although  we  knew 
not  the  design."  The  advocate  added,  **  Nothing 
therefore  can  be  more  clear  than  the  fact,  that  the 
M  was  her  father's  initial  letter." — "  How  old  then  am 
I?"  inquired  Diganu.  "That  was  not  communi- 
cated," answered  Rohoirsic,  *'  but  you  must  be  about 
the  age  of  Chretien,  because  his  mother  partly  suckled 
you  when  he  was  an  infant.  Nothing  was  unfolded, 
except  it  tended  to  verify  the  main  fact,  and  of  that^  I 
have  no  doubt." 

The  lawyer  then  proceeded  to  state  some  general 
circumstances  respecting  Louise,  her  living  at  Point 
aux  Trembles,  her  vis*  to  Jacques  Cartier,  her  rescue 
at  Lorette,  her  boarding  at  the  house  where  Diganu 
had  first  stationed  her  in  Quebec,  and  some  other 
matters  to  which  neither  Diganu  nor  Chretien  had  ad- 
verted ;  which  proved  that  the  parties  who  had  made 


06 


LORETT£. 


known  those  things  had  secretly  watched  their  conduct ; 
and  therefore  on  this  subject,  might  surely  be  credited. 
But  when  the  counsellor  proceeded  to  identify  Diganu 
in  the  same  manner,  by  details  of  his  early  life,  pro- 
gress, pursuits,  occupations,  and  many  other  private 
occurrences  only  known  to  Chretien  and  his  early  do- 
mestic associates,  his  remaining  incredulity  vanished 
away,  and  he  fully  acknowledged,  "Persons  so  mi- 
nutely acquainted  with  these  trifling  and  almost  oblite- 
rated events  of  my  junior  years  must  be  mysteriously 
connected  with  me,  and  therefore  in  a  case  of  this  na- 
ture their  evidence  is  admissible." — "  This  is  my  de- 
cided  opinion,"  replied  Rohoirsic,  **  not  that  they  have 
voluntarily  made  this  disclosure.     They  have  been  in- 
timidated, and  dreading  the  open  exhibition  of  a  crime, 
which,  only  in  its  prominent  act,  the  forcible  abduc- 
tion of  a  female  in  the  midst  of  the  nuptial  ceremony, 
would  excite  an  unappeasable  commotion,  they  have 
preferred  that  you  should  escape  their  fangs,  and  that 
I  should  be  at  liberty  to  imagine  whatever  I  pleapi." 
**  But  what  shall  I  do  with  the  money  which  has  been 
transmitted  to  me  V  inquired  Diganu.     **  That  is  well 
introduced,"  answered  the  lawyer,  "  I  am  persuaded, 
that  to  some  of  the  parties,  who  were  the  prominent 
agents  in  the  transaction  at  Lorette,  you  are  indebted 
for  your  birth,  tuition,  and  the  facilities  which  you 
have  received  in  commencing  and   carrying  on  your 
business.     This  was  not  distinctly  stated,  but  it  was 
intimated  that  your  connexions  who  had  assisted  you 
before,  are  now  so  enraged  at  your  conduct,  that  they 
have  determined  no  longer  to  befriend  you.     In  fact, 
they  dread  lest  by  some  means,  the  medium  by  which 
you  have  been  aided  with  cash  and  credit  should  be 
traced ;  and  therefore  they  will  preclude  all  discovery 
by  leaving  you  in  future,  entirely  to  yourself.    Retain 


wi 

is 


LORETTE* 


97 


their  presents  ;  then  if  they  discard  you,  the  impres- 
sion that  you  possess  superfluous  wealth  will  enable 
you  to  choose  the  best  connexions.  One  fact,  how- 
ever, was  plainly  declared  ;  if  you  close  the  threatened 
litigation  the  persons  who  have  educated  you  will  not 
permit  you  ever  to  be  destitute  and  dependant." — "I 
shall  insist  upon  one  condition,**  added  Diganu,  ^*and 
for  it  you  must  obtain  a  sufficient  guaranty,  that  if 
Louise  dies  before  me,  I  shall  be  made  acquainted 
with  her  decease."  The  counsellor  answered,  **  That 
is  proper;    I  will  have  this  point  fully  insured." 

On  the  same  evening  the  cure  of  Lorette  appeared. 
The  other  articles  were  easily  adjusted  ;  but  the  last 
claim  of  Diganu  was  pronounced  inadmissible.  "  I 
wish  not  to  impose  upon  you,"  remarked  Rohoirsic, 
but  I  have  you  all  now  completely  in  my  power.  I  shall 
insist  upon  occasionally  seeing  Louise.  It  is  a  duty 
which  i  owe  to  all  the  parties ;  for  I  have  promised 
to  convey  the  information  of  her  death  to  Diganu,  in 
case  he  should  survive  her."  The  cure  finally  assented ; 
and  the  lawyer  engaged  that  the  whole  affair  should 
be  buried  in  oblivion.  He  presented  Rohoirsic  his 
douceur  for  his  services,  and  desired  him  to  re- 
press all  intemperate  unguarded  expressions,  if  Di- 
ganu and  Chretien,  through  youthful  effervescence, 
should  ever  introduce  them.  On  the  subsequent  night, 
the  counsellor  communicated  to  Diganu  and  Chretien 
a  full  detail  of  his  proceedings  ;  and  they  were  con- 
soled with  the  idea,  that,  at  least,  they  should  hear  of 
Louise*s  departure  ;  which  they  anticipated  could  not 
be  very  distant,  from  the  trials  which  they  imagined 
she  would  be  forced  to  endure. 

Some  days  after,  the  priest  who  had  been  the  cause  of 
all  Louise's  misery  entered  for  the  last  time.  **  I  am 
come,  Diganu,"  said  the  pretre,  with  great  cordiality. 


'^'  ! 


i»lP."W,l«ilp,i;ip!ii  1    .u 


98 


LORETTE* 


"  according  to  my  promise  to  see  you,  once  more  :  your 
proceedings  now  prove  that  you  are  not  totally  insensi- 
ble to  reason,  feeling,  and  propriety." — "  Had  1  pos- 
sessed neither,"  retorted  Diganu,  "it  would  not  have 
"been  a  matter  of  surprise.  How  is  a  human  creature  to 
show  sensibility,  who  has  never  enjoyed  a  relative's  en- 
dearments to  keep  it  in  exMrcise  ;  and  just  when  it  was 
beginning  to  awake  and  expand  itself,  who  has  had  its 
first  fresh  and  green  fruits  forever  blasted." — **  The 
lawyer  has  convinced  you,"  replied  the  Jesuit,  "  that 
your  proposed  marriage  was  illegal  and  unnatural;  and 
no  other  secure  mode  existed  to  annul  your  con- 
tract."— **  Why  was  not  that  explanation  made,  when  it 
was  ascertained  that  Louise  was  residing  with  her  bro- 
ther ]"  asked  Diganu,  **  then  she  might  have  been  use- 
ful, and  I  might  have  been  at  peace." — "  It  was  per- 
ceived," said  the  priest,  "  that  your  affection  had  as- 
sumed that  irrevocable  character,  which  indulged  no 
expectation  of  any  change.  Besides,  the  heresy  of 
Louise  exposed  her  to  continual  danger,"  his  coun- 
tenance for  once  expressed  great  severity,  **  and  her 
heresy  is  unpardonable." 

Cliretien  here  interposed,  and,  with  great  mildness, 
inquired,  "  What  is  heresy  ?"  The  pretre,  with  a 
haughty  air  and  tone  answered,  "  Heresy !  Chretien  ; 
it  is  heresy  to  read  the  bible.  It  is  heresy,  not  to  be- 
lieve what  your  priest  teaches.  It  is  heresy,  not  to 
attend  mass  and  confession,  and  not  to  pay  the  church 
dues  :  and  above  all,  it  is  rank  heresy,  to  act  contrary 
to  a  priest's  directions." — "But  I  will  read  the  bible," 
exclaimed  Diganu,  with  great  energy;  "I  believe  all 
that  you  teach  is  strong  delusion.  I  will  never  more  go 
to  mass  or  confession,  or  pay  a  priest  one  sous :  and  I 
mean  to  do  every  thing  exactly  contrary  to  all  that  the 
priests  have  hitherto  always  ordered  me.   What  am  1 1" 


st^ 

ins 
ofl 

foi 


U}RBTTB. 


90 


The  Jesuit,  with  stifled  emotion,  and  it  was  the  only 
occasion  on  which  his  voice  betrayed  it,  and  with  a 
stern  countenance,  answered,  "  You  are  the  brother  of 
Louise  ;  and  an  excommunicated  heretic  !"     Diganu 
instantly  retorted,  "  Bravo  !    I  glory  in  your  brand 
of  the  heresy,  and  the  farce  of  the  excommunication, 
for  the  comfort  and  advantages  of  the  relationship." 
"  It  was  no  part  of  my  object,"  solemnly  but  kindly 
rejoined  the  pretre,  "  to  introduce  this  point.     I  come 
on  behalf  of  your  former  friends,  to  discharge  my  duty. 
Your  desire  to  hear  of  Louise,  as  betokening  a  bro- 
therly affection  is  satisfactory ;  and,  as  the  lawyer  has 
apprised  you,  once  more  you  shall  hear  of  her;  I  can- 
not engage  that  you  shall  ever  see  her  again !  this  may 
not  be  practicable.     Those  persons,  who  have  hitherto 
interested  themselves  for  you,  on  account  of  the  recent 
events,  are  obliged  to  remain  hereafter  disconnected 
from  all  your  concerns ;  but  as  they  cannot  even  wish 
you  to  be  more  wretched  than  your  heresies  will  render 
you,  I  am  directed  to  offer  you  this  as  a  remembrancer. 
It  is  the  last  pecuniary  favor,  which  you  may  expect 
to  receive  from  them."    Having  presented  Diganu  a 
large  parcel,  he   added,  "but  now  I  have  one  requisi- 
tion to  make,  and  I  will  see,  whether  a  heretic  can  keep 
his  faith  with  a  Roman  catholic  priest."     Diganu  and 
Chretien,  stared  with  uneasiness,  at  this  implied  novel 
exaction.    "  It  is  believed,"  continued  the  pretre,  "  that 
Louise  has  communicated  to  you,  a  number  of  false- 
hoods, respecting  the  priests  and  the  religieuses ;"  he 
then  fixed  his  searching  eye  upon  Diganu  and  Chretien, 
and  asked,  "  is  it  so  V 

Chretien  replied,  "  To  justify  herself  for  the  dan- 
gerous condition  in  which  we  discovered  her,  she  stated, 
that  she  had  been  placed  in  a  very  distressing  situation, 
and  that  she  had  escaped  in  the  commotion  occasioned 


f-  >. 


> 


'I 
I? 


100 


LORBTTE. 


by  a  fire  in  the  house,  where  she  was  involuntarily 
detained  for  pollution."   The  pretre  unguardedly  asked, 
**  Did  she  inform  you  in  whose  house  it  was,  and  the 
name  of  the  resident  priest  t'*  thus  virtually  admitting 
the  truth  of  her  statement,  and  implying  his  own  know- 
ledge of  the  fact.   **  Not  at  all,"  answered  Chretien,  "it 
was  only  the  last  night  before  we  went  to  Lorette  that 
she  mentioned  it,  and  although  she  identified  and  pointed 
out  to  us  the  parties  in  the  church,  yet  she  declared,  that 
she  could  form  no  accurate  conception  of  the  parish." 
The  Jesuit  quickly  rejoined,  "  Enough  !    My  object 
in  noticing  this  matter  is  to  engage  your  promise,  that 
no  mention  shall  be  made  by  you,  of  any  calumny 
which  she  recounted  in  her  delirium."     Diganu  in- 
stantly exclaimed,  "  Delirium  !  she  was  alwaj's  sensi- 
ble when  with  us !"  The  priest  remarked,  **  No  matter ; 
all  these  circumstances  henceforth  are  to  remain  buried 
in  oblivion."     "  Certainly," said  Diganu,  "but  Chre- 
tien and  myself,  are  not  to  be  molested  for  our  reli- 
gious  opinions  and  practices,  although  we  know  that 
it  is  your  doctrine  to  keep  no  faith  with  heretics." 
**  That  is  already  decided,"  added  the  pretre,  "  faith 
in  this  instance  will   be  kept  with  you  :    and   now 
we  part  most  probably  for  ever.      Take  my  advice 
young  men,  you  are  inexperienced  in  the  ways  of  the 
world.     Contract  not  large  debts.    Entangle  not  your- 
selves with  securityships.     Never  play  at  games  of 
chance  for  money.     Be  upon  your  guard  respecting 
the  females  whom  you  may  select  for  your  wives.     But 
above  all  things,  say  nothing  about  nuns,  priests,  and 
the   church.      Your   friends  in   any  emergency  will 
assist  you.    Be  cautious  in  your  associations;    and 
remember,  that  you  will  always  be  strictly  watched. 
Louise's  comfort  and  your  own  safety  essentially  depend 
upon  your  prudence."  Heofiered  Chretien  his  hand, ''I 


\ 


*5 


sh 
to 


re^ 
a 


LORETTe. 


101 


intarily 

r asked, 

md  the 

mitting 

I  know- 

ien,  *'it 

tte  that 

pointed 

ed,  that 

)arish." 

object 

se,  that 

alumny 

inu  in- 

i  sensi- 

nattcr ; 

I  buried 

t  Chre- 

ir  reli- 

)w  that 

etics" 

"  faith 

i   now 

advice 

of  the 

your- 

nes  of 

ecting 

But 

and 

will 

and 

tched. 

epend 

id,  "I 


know  you  well,  and  am  willing  yet  to  serve  you,  Chre- 
tien," he  remarked, "  maintain  your  affection  and  friend- 
ship for  Djganu.   Adieu!  God  bless  you."  Then  turning 
to  Diganu,  who  coldly  accepted  his  proffered  saluta- 
tion, he  said  tenderly  and  seriously,  *'  Diganu,  I  have 
long  cared  for  your  welfare,  but  now  my  duties  in  that 
respect  are  enJed.    You  have  ample  means  to  establish 
a  comfortable  business.     Remember  that  Rohoirsic 
will  ever  be  your  friend  in  need.     Give  yourself  no 
anxiety  for  Louise.     She  is  safe,  and  as  comfortable 
as  she  can  be.     I  shall  see  you  again,  I  hope,  before 
you  or  I  leave  this  world,"  he  laid  his  hand  on  Diganu^s 
head,  with  apparent  fervour  pronounced  his  priestly 
**  PAX  TECUM,  peace  be  with  thee,"  and  immediately 
disappeared. 

From  that  evening,  years  revolved,  and  Diganu's 
life  was  almost  an  entire  disconnexion  from  all  man- 
kind, except  as  the  mere  routine  of  commercial  busi- 
ness produced  a  temporary  association.  His  soul  was 
circumscribed  within  himself.  By  his  antisocial  sus- 
picions of  all  who-  were  the  minions  of  the  Roman 
priesthood,  he  had  contracted  the  habits  of  a  recluse, 
with  none  of  his  natural  feelings  ;  and  in  a  situation 
where  every  thing  around  him  repressed  attachment 
and  excited  disgust,  he  combined  an  enlarged  philan- 
thropy with  the  reserve  of  an  anchorite.  His  only 
companion  was  Chretien.  Louise's  bible  was  his 
chief  treasure  and  delight.  But  his  constant  refoge 
and  faithfully  unchanging  friend  was  the  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


• 


(02 


LORETTI. 


-v\':>} 


*♦■.  / 


NARRATIVE  OF  LOUISE. 


1^' 


frtiU  ni 


"  Where  am  I  ?  life's  current  faintly  flowing. 
Brings  the  welcome  warning  of  release ; 
Struck  with  death  ;  ah !  whither  am  I  going  7 
All  is  well^my  spirit  parts  in  peace.*' 


The  details  which  follow  are  the  abridged  contents 
of  the  manuscript  that  unfolded  the  history  of  Louise 
after  her  heart-rending  separation  from  0iganu. 

**  Before  these  papers  are  seen  by  you,  my  beloved 
brother,  your  Louise  no  longer  will  be  a  resident  upon 
earth.     It  is  superfluous  to  retrace  the  events  of  that 
terrifying  morn,  when  I  was  dragged  away  from  your 
protection  ;  but  had  you  been  apprized  of  the  wicked 
object,  a  mortal  conflict  alone  would  have  terminated 
the  scene.     After  our  final  adieu,  I  w^as  hurried  into 
the  carriole  which  had  drawn  up  to  transport  me  away, 
altogether  insensible  to  the  proceedings  of  those  who 
had  seized   me.     When   I  first   clearly  realized  my 
situation,  we  were  not  more  than  two  miles  from  Que- 
bec; and  hurrying  along  the  road   with  all  possible 
speed  to  the  general  hospiti^l,  where  I  was  transferred 
to   the    insane    department ;      during    my   detention 
in  which,   I  saw  no  person  but  the  woman,  who  at 
Lorette  affirmed  that  you  are  my  brother,   and  the 
priest  from  whom  I  had  before  escaped.     The  true  but 
agonizing  reason  for  our  separation  was  soon  divulged. 
Time   had  Neither  changed  the  priest*s  design,   nor 
diminished  the  willingness  of  his  tool  to  aid  him  in 
effecting  his  base   purpose.     During  a  month,  I  was 
tortured   by  their   constant   artifices.     Those   of  the 
female  were  kind  and  insinuating.     The  Jesuit's  stra- 
tagems  were  mixed  with   harshness   and   alarm.     I 
resented  the  female  decoys  as  unnatural  and  insulting; 
the  priest's  menaces,  I  scorned  and  defied.     Undoubt- 


% 


LoBE'mr. 


103 


1 


edly,  in  the  friendless  and  destitute  condition  in  which 
they  had  placed  me,  his  treachery  would  have  been 
executed,  had  nut  your  threatened  law-suits  placed  all 
the  actors  in  the  most  perplexing  embarrassment.  The 
miserable  nun*s  apparent  blandishments  were  obviously 
designed  as  a  contrast  to  the  pretre^s  terrific  impu- 
dence, to  effect  by  vitiating  and  seducing  wiles  that 
which  could  not  be  achieved  by  intimidation ;  so  that 
from  fear  of  him,  I  might  be  insnared  by  her  ;  or  if 
I  resisted  her  entanglements,  that  I  might  be  entrapped 
by  his  artful  sensuality. 

The  Jesuit  constantly  had  two  topics  with  which  to 
daunt  me.  My  h«resy,  and  the  dreadful  sentence  of 
excommunication,  which  he  ever  portrayed  in  the  most 
appalling  features,  and  from  which  his  grand  object 
was  to  show,  that  I  could  be  relieved  solely  by  his 
means,  and  therefore  I  ought  to  secure  his  favourable 
interposition,  the  terms  and  price  of  which  I  knew. 
My  principles  I  defended.  The  censures  of  his  church 
I  ridiculed.  At  his  favour  I  scoffed.  And  in  reference 
to  his  excommunication,  I  remarked,  "  I  am  in  your 
power ;  imprisoned  in  the  maniac^s  cell ;  weakened 
by  continual  privations  and  uninterrupted  ill  usage. 
You  can  forcibly  violate  my  person;  you  can  deprive 
me  of  my  faculties;  or  you  can  secretly  murder  me: 
but  you  can  neither  stupify  my  conscience,  nor  cor-  . 
rupt  my  heart.'*  At  other  times,  he  charged  rae  with 
robbing  his  house,  and  setting  fire  to  it.  He  denounced 
against  me  all  the  severest  punishments  of  the  law; 
and  from  those  fearful  penalties  he  engaged  to  secure 
me,  only  for  the  sacrifice  of  my  personal  purity. 
"  Nothing,  I  often  remarked  to  him,  would  rejoice  me 
so  much  as  to  be  delivered  up  to  the  civil  authority 
upon  these  charges.  In  any  possible  emergency  my 
situation  would  be  amended.    I  might  be  acquitted, 


101 


LORETTE. 


in  spite  of  all  your  arts,  and  the  witnesses  whom  yon 
could  suborn  to  perjure  themselves.  I  should  be 
released  from  your  ungodly  fangs.  If  they  condemned 
me,  the  verdict  would  be  given  solely  from  defect  of  evi- 
dence, and  they  would  not  be  criminal ;  but  you  would 
be  guilty  of  wilful  murder.  I  would  rather  trust  in  the 
God  of  Providence  to  deliver  me,  who  already  once 
has  mercifully  rescued  mo  from  your  wicked  contri- 
vances, or  even  be  hanged  in  innocence,  than  remain 
in  wretched  solitude  under  your  dangerous  control." 

Thus  passed  my  days,  with  no  prospect  of  escape 
from  my  anguish.  But  at  length,  for  formes  sake,  the 
surgeon  who  had  attended  me  at  Lorette  was  admitted; 
and  I  was  traniferred  to  anotlier  apartment,  but  in  per- 
fect seclusion.  1  was  speedily  after  despatched  to 
Montreal,  with  the  strictest  injunctions  of  the  closest 
confinement.  Subsequently  I  was  remanded  to  Que- 
bec, and  was  introduced  to  your  counsellor ;  who, 
unknown  to  you,  would  not  consent  to  any  pacific 
arrangement,  until  he  had  seen  me  and  obtaiued  all 
necessary  explanations  from  your  Louise  herself.  To 
his  inflexibility,  I  owe  ^11  the  little  personal  safety  and 
coAifort  which  I  have  since  enjoyed.  He  contracted 
for  my  residence  in  Quebec  ;  for  an  annual  interview 
with  me  ;  for  the  occasional  sight  of  me  at  the  grate  ; 
for  my  ex;emption  from  all  trouble  and  persecution  on 
account  of  my  religious  principles:  for  my  perfect 
security  from  all  attempts  to  assail  my  modesty  ;  for 
the  free  use  of  writing  materials,  and  the  undisturbed 
possession  of  whatever  books,  according  to  my  desires, 
he  should  procure  for  me;  for  a  final  interview  with 
you,  if  practicable,  when  near  death;  and  for  the 
eventual  transmission  to  you  of  whatever  I  pleased  to 
designate  after  my  release  from  this  vale  of  tears, 
^dtwithstanding  these  privileges  were*  solemnly  gua- 


LORGTTB. 


105 


Tantied  to  me,  yet  as  they  were  most  reluctantly 
granted,  as  I  was  denounced  as  an  incorrigible  heretic, 
and  as  I  was  a  resident  where  every  peson  was  deci- 
dedly inimical  to  me,  my  existence  from  that  period 
was,  of  course,  an  almost  unvarying  round  of  perplex- 
ity and  disquietude ;  except  as  it  was  alleviated  by 
the  consolatory  truths  of  the  gospel  of  CVri^t.  I  was 
forced  to  engage  in  the  most  menial  offices  ,  and  al- 
though the  absolute  letter  of  your  lawvei's  compact 
was  never  so  outrageously  infringed,  tl  .  he  could  pro- 
perly 'i.'.V'.j  declared  that  his  silence  should  bo  termina- 
t'^H,  because  they  had  nullified  their  part  f  the  agree- 
ment, yet  every  cunning  artifice  was  adopted,  that  I 
might  be  induced  to  become  altogether  like  themselves. 
The  interior  of  a  convent  is  the  sepulchre  of  good' 
ness  and  the  castle  of  misery »  Within  its  unsancti6ed 
domain,  youth  withers,  knowledge  is  extinguished,  use- 
fulness is  entombed,  and  religion  expires.  The  life 
of  a  nun  is  a  course  of  exterior  solemn  mummery,  from 
which  all  that  is  lovely  is  ejected,  and  under  the  visor 
dwells  every  thing  loathsome  and  sorrowful.  All  that 
Marguerite  implied  and  described  to  me  is  practised  ; 
and  the  chief  solicitudes  and  contrivances  consist  in 
their  efforts  to  conceal  from  the  world  at  large,  the 
secrets  which  appertain  to  the  direful  prison.  As  I 
was  too  much  hated  to  be  regarded  as  of  any  conse- 
quence, and  was  so  narrowly  watched  that  nothing  Jess 
than  the  sudden  and  unforeseen  exercise  of  the* power 
of  the  government  could  have  held  intercourse  with 
me,  except  by  the  cursory  recognition  and  the  aiyiual 
interview  with  your  counsellor  and  friend  on  each 
iiew-ycar's  day,  and  this  only  in  the  presence  of  the 
superieure ;  no  opportunity  was  afforded  me  to  make 
any  communication,  except  in  the  packet  sealed  for 
you,  and  which  the  lawyer  was  bound  to  reserve  until 

9* 


109 


LOR£TTS' 


my  decease.  However,  my  life  was  not  so  fraught 
with  anguish  as  might  have  been  anticipated  ;  not  from 
any  detect  in  their  torturous  ingenuity  to  diminish 
its  comforts  and  to  aggravate  its  hardships  ;  but  I  had 
gained  **  the  pearlof  great  price ;"  and  in  him  I  found 
a  never  failing  and  unchangeable  friend.  Oftep  have 
I  experienced  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  ;  *^  as  thy 
days  are,  so  shall  thy  strength  be ;"  and  during 
the  tedious  years  of  my  bondage  and  imprisonment 
within  the  walls  of  the  nunnery,  that  word  of  the  Lord 
was  true  ;  **  I  will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee." 
The  benevolence  of  your  counsellor  towards  me  in  no 
point  of  view  was  more  advantageous,  than  in  the 
absolute  claim  which  he  made,  that  I  should  be  at 
liberty  to  peruse  the  bible,  and  any  other  books  which 
I  could  procure.  He  always  presented  me  a  lew  vo- 
lumes upon  his  visit  in  exchange  for  others  ;  the  whole 
of  which  books  will  be  your  portion  as  remembrancers 
of  your  Louise.  To  adjust  this  point  involved  great 
difficulties.  The  bishop  and  the  chaplain,  with  the 
other  prieats,  by  every  species  of  crafty  management, 
endeavoured  to  cancel  this  clause  of  the  contract.  Ro- 
hoirsic  was  immoveable.  *'  I  am  willing,^'  he  sternly 
remarked,  **  that  no. other  persons  shall  even  be  acquaintr 
ed  with  the  fact  that  Louise  possesses  these  books ; 
but  I  never  will  consent,  that  she  shall  be  divested  of 
all  printed  associates,  when  a  living  companion  ce^nnot 
be  found  for  her.^'  His  peremptory  tone,  in  connexion 
with  their  dread  lest  theiir  ungodliness  should  be  pro- 
mulsed,  finally  urged  their  compliance  with  his  vexatious 
demand. 

The  most  painful  of  all  my  mental  exercises  flowed, 
not  only  from  my  being  so  completely  isolated,  but 
also  from  the  contempt  with  which  all  the  inhabitants 
.of  the  convent  incessantly  assailed  me.  Age  and  youth, 
mock  gravity  with    thoughtless  levity,   hypocritical 


i\ 


(.OBBTTE. 


107 


fraught 
not  from 
diminish 
>ut  I  had 
>  I  found 
ep  have 
"as  thy 

during 
sonment 
he  Lord 
e  thee." 
ne  in  no 

in  the 
d  be  at 
s  which 
i'ew  vo- 
te whole 
irancers 
d  great 
'ith  the 
fenient, 
:t.  Ro- 
sternly 

quaintr 
books  ; 
sted  of 
cannot 
ncxion 
e  pro- 
iiatious 

lowed, 
d,  but 
>itants 
Kouth, 
ritical 


grimace  and  open  indulgence,  infidel  hardihood  with 
ceremonial  apishness,  the  Je  uit  chaplain's  insolence, 
with  that  of  his  associated  visiting  priests,  the  mimic 
afifectation  of  the  religieuses,  and  the  authoritative 
malignity  of  the  superieuro,  all  were  ever  arrayed 
against  your  defenceless  sister.  This  was  the  most 
difficult  of  all  my  conquests.  Their  stupid  pretences  at 
an  argument  did  not  in  the  least  disturb  me.  Their 
denunciation  of  judgments  against  all  heretics  served 
equally  to  show  their  ignorance  and  bigotry,  and  only 
excited  my  compassion.  And  even  their  tasks,  se- 
vere as  they  sometimes  were,  tended  to  encourage  my 
fortitude  and  produce  additional  energy.  But  when 
the  youth  who  were  taught  and  actuated  by  them, 
many  of  whom  were  their  own  daughters,  combined  to 
point  the  finger  of  scorn  and  to  spurn  at  me  with 
their  puny  raillery,  then  I  have  felt  mortified  and  ex- 
cited. To  master  this  lesson  required  much  time  ; 
but  one  of  my  best  supports  while  acquiring  it,  next 
to  the  truth  of  the  sacred  oracles,  was  the  lawyer's 
assurance,  that  my  brother  and  Chretien  remained 
steadfast  and  immoveable  in  the  faith  and  hope  of  the 
Saviour.  Eventually,  however^  I  was  enablerl  to  van- 
quish all  my  arrogant  sensibilities  ;  and,  as  the  Psalmist 
observes,  in  some  measure,  **  I  behaved  and  quieted 
myself  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his  mother ;  my 
soul  was  even  as  a  weaned  child."  From  that  period, 
1  was  enabled  to  cast  myself  and  all  my  cares  unre-* 
servedly  upon  the  Lord.  The  language  of  David  was 
my  predominant  feeling,  "  My  soul,  wait  thou  only 
upon  God  ;  for  my  expectation  is  from  him.  He  only 
is  my  rock  ancLfity  salvation."  I  had  yielded  up  my 
brother ;  and  wnU  you,  I  resigned  all  that  had  ever 
truly  cemented  me  with  earth.  My  constant  prayeif 
a.  tended  to  our  Father  in  heaven  for  grajoe  for  my- 
self, that  I  might  ibrbeart  and  bear  aU  that  Gdd  per- 


I 


108 


LOftBTTfi. 


mitted ;  and  for  you,  that  when  we  ceased  to  live  in 
this  world,  we  might  have  our  eternal  **  inheritance 
among  the  sanctified."  *''»*  i -w.v     -  >    r,n   m   ....i'..<c. 
The  whole  conventual  system  involves  a  species  of 
infatuation  bordering  on  lunacy,  unless  it  is  more  ap- 
propriately transferred   to  vice.     Jesuitical   artifices 
and  seductions,  by  which  persons  are  insnared,  may 
mislead  and  enchain  ignorant  and  inexperienced  youth 
Jnto  monastic  life,  as  no  doubt  they  would  have  intan- 
gled  yom-  Louise,  had  not  Marguerite  premonished  me. 
To  a  junior,  whom  tlie  priests  and  nuns  are  anxious  to 
cajole,  ftotbing  can  surpass  their  enticements.     Youth 
merely  glance  at  the  surface,  and  all  appears  robed  in 
the  very  witchery  of  delight.     To  them  a  nunnery 
seems  the  havem  of  quietude,  the  garden  of  an  earthly 
paradise,  and  the  sanctuary  of  all  that  is  devotional 
and  spiritual.     The  scene  is  a  genuine  theatrical  ex- 
hibition, in  which  the  actors  appear  to  be  decorated  in 
all  the  grander  characteristics  of  humanity,  developing 
its  loftieist  conceptions,  and  its  most  refined  emotions. 
Those  postulantcs  and  novices  alone  who  are  pre- 
viously prepared,  are  admitted  to  survey  the  interior. 
The  blasphemy,  the  wretchedness,  the  coarse  man- 
ners, the  shameless  loquacity,  and  the  barefaced  sa- 
crifices of  truth  and  virtue,  all  are  obscured,  until  the 
parties  either  already  have  engaged,  or  are  willing  un- 
scrupulously to  mingle  with  the  others,  in  their  hypo- 
critical sanctity  and   sensual   indulgences.     But   the 
toilsome  uniformity  of  the  monastic  life  renders  if  still 
more  objectionable  in  principle,  and  insupportable  in 
experience.     The  unchanging  routine  of  daily  cere- 
monial forms,  equally  unintelligible |tad  unmeaning, 
only  increased  or  diminished,  according  to  the  esta- 
blished prescriptions,  counteracts  all  moral  and  intellec- 
tual energy.    This  deadening  system  was  more  odious 
to  me^  becauie  it  oppoied  all  my  views ;  and  the  para* 


^ 


LORETTE« 


100 


■if 


f\ 


lyzing  routine  of  the  convent  was  augmented  by  my 
alienation  even  from  the  only  alternations  that  relieved 
the  dullness  of  the  tedious  hours.  The  ordinary  coursQ 
of  a  nun  is  not  less  indefensible  upon  physical,  than 
upon  moral  principles.  But  it  is  the  high  curse  of 
popery,  that  it  adapts  itself  to  every  ciiaracter  however 
unseemly,  and  to  all  conditions  however  unnatural. 
By  Us  dispensing  qualifications,  it  is  accommodated 
to  each  individual,  and  can  be  suited  to  every  possible 
emergency.  It  abrogates  all  laws,  transforms  vice, 
into  virtue,  relaxes  its  claims  when  a  priest  requires  gra- 
tiiication,  increases  its  demands  when  a  Jesuit  desires, 
revenge,  and  by  its  variety  of  metamorphoses,  can 
command  what  it  lists,  and  in  its  plenitude  of  power, 
will  justify  those  who  obey  its  orders  in  any  rebellious 
act  against  God,  and  in  all  heinous  criminality  to- 
wards man.  The  dull  monotony  of  the  nunnery  was 
also  very  pernicious  to  my  health  and  constitution,  be- 
cause .1  had  no  stated  periods  of  air  and  proper  exer- 
cise allotted  to  me.  To  understand  the  views  of  the 
^yofld  without  was  prohibited  to  yoiir  Louise.  If  any 
article  of  information  became  known  to  me,  it  was  ac- 
cidental ;  and  to  all  in  ents,  I  was  immured  in  a  large 
dungeon,  with  no  expectation  of  amendment  or  release, 
and  with  no  earthly  companion  from  whom  1  could  ex- 
perience the  least  sympathy,  except  when  the  lawyer 
presented  me  his  New- Year's  congratulations  ;  and 
with  no  solace,  except  in  the  scriptures  and  at  the 
throne  of  grace.  In  all  my  variety  of  grief,  howeverj 
I  found  an  assured  refuge  in  God,  who  had  so  merci- 
fully delivered  me,  and  who  often  by  his  Spirit,  trans- 
formed the  gloug||of  my  dreary  solitude  into  the  very 
light  of  life,  anArevout  commu;iion  with  him  and  with 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

The  delineation  qf  one  day  in  tlie  cpnvent  will  give 


^te 


;?'■ 


no 


LORETTE. 


you  a  history  of  the  year,  with  very  little  alteration. 
While  the  religieuses  and  their  dependants  were  mum- 
bling over  their  Ave  Marys  and  their  matin  rosaries,  I 
read  my  bible,  and  attempted  to  pray  to  the  Father  of 
light,  the  giver  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  Their 
iddatrous  festivals  to  me  were  days  of  real  enjoyment; 
because  while  undergoing  their  pretended  penance,  or 
revelling  in  their  sensuality,  I  was  left  ulone,  and  when 
they  were  engaged  at  their  vespers,  I  occupied  tiie 
evening  hour  in  my  humble  devotions.  The  genuine 
characteristics  of  monastic  life  chiefly  vary  with  the 
constitutional  temperaments  of  the  nuns,  all  which  arc 
as  accurately  known  to  tlie  priests  as  themselves.  By 
their  artifices  at  confession,  they  unravel  every  cha- 
racter, and  transform  each  individual  into  an  instru- 
ment to  subserve  their  unholy  designs.  However 
dissonant  in  temper  and  pursuit,  all  are  moulded  ac- 
cording to  the  pretre's  will.  A  Jesuit  priest  can  form 
no  correct  idea  of  relationships.  His  whole  i^oul  is 
centered  in  himself  and  in  his  craft.  To  him  all  the 
tender  charities  of  life  are  utterly  unknown,  and  as  his 
assumed  religion  is  nothing  more  than  a  cloak  to  de- 
ceive the  world,  and  under  its  concealment  to  gratify 
his  own  wishes,  the  practice  of  confession  enables  him 
to  grasp  every  thing  which  he  may  choose.  Veri/  few 
Roman  priests ^  indeed,  now  exist ,  who  are  not  deter^ 
mined  infidels.  This  doctrine  they  teach  .their  besot- 
ted disciples,  especially  the  girls,  whom  when  young, 
they  mark  for  their  prey.  In  every  form,  they  ascer- 
tain their  ruling  dispositions;  as  they  grow  up,  they 
gradually  acquire  over  them  a  complete  ascendancy, 
behave  to  them  with  a  familiarity  aoM^ently  only  pa- 
ternal, imbue  them  with  overpowe^^  ideas  of  their 
priestly  indisputable  authority,  infuse  a  high  estimate 
«f  the  value  of  their  pardotj  of  sin,  and  of  the  absolute 


•m- 


LORETTE. 


Iteration, 
re  mum- 
osaries,  I 
^'ather  of 
Their 
oyment; 
ance,  or 
nd  when 
^ied  the 
genuine 
fvith  the 
hich  are 
es.    By 
ry  cha- 
instru- 
owever 
ded  ac- 
an  form 
^oul  is 
all  the 
i  as  his 
to  de- 
gratify 
les  him 
ri/  few 
deter-' 
besot- 
young, 
ascer- 
,  they 
Jancy, 
]y  pa- 
r  their 
tiniate 
solute 


111 


necessity  of  obedience  to  them  in  all  things ;  attract 
their  regard  and  affection  by  trifling  presents,  accom- 
panied witht  ender  endearments,  and  then,  with  the  aid 
of  their  female  seducing  adepts,  find  the  deluded  silly 
creature  an  easy  and  willing  victim*  Often  are  the 
young  women  made  to  believe  that  they  are  an  infe"* 
rior  race  to  .the  men,  and  only  created  to  administer 
to  their  enjoyments ;  that  all  their  friends  and  relatives 
are  equally  frail,  submissive,  and  attached  to  the  pre- 
tres ;  and,  in  case  of  obstinate  resistance,  they  a>re  re- 
minded of  the  matters  which  they  have  acknowledged 
at  confession,  and  menaced  with  a  public  exposure  of 
crimes,  of  which  not  only  were  they  incapable  of  be- 
ing guilty,  but  of  which  they  had  never  heard,  nor 
formed  an  idea.  This  is  the  general  result  of  the  hor- 
rible system  of  confession.  Artful  questions  are  asked, 
the  purport  of  which  an  innocent  girl  does  not  even 
comprehend.  She  learns  however  from  the  priest, 
that  she  has  acknowledged  the  commission  of  sins  for 
which  she  is  directed  to  perform  an  impracticable  pe-. 
nance.  This  only  adds  to  her  perplexity ;  and  to  es- 
cape from  her  dilemma,  she  finally  commutes  her 
penance,  by  [actually  participating  with  the  pretre  in 
that  crime,  which  he  alone  had  taught  her. 

In  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  resurrection  of 
>'..  body,  and  the  future  judgment,  none  of  the  nuns 
whom  I  ever  heard  talk,  at  all  believed,  except  a  few, 
who  for  their  gratuitous  austerities  and  reserve  were 
considered  as  gloomy  fanatics.  It  is  one  chief  part  of 
the  mystery  of  iniquity,  that  the  priests,  knowing  all 
the  women*s  characters  and  inclinations  and  doings, 
retain  them  in  sMl)jection  from  fear  of  each  other,  and 
thus  unconsciously  and  doubtless  often  unintentionally, 
they  assist  the  grand  scheme  of  luxurious  pleasure  and 
priestly  aggrandizement.    Their  conscientioiis  prin* 


L-*^ 


' 


112 


LORETTE. 


i 

I 


ciples,  so  far  as  they  have  any^  their  moral  habits 
and  predilections,  and  their  sincerity  and  usefulness, 
all  are  absorbed  in  a  degrading  sense  of  inferiority,  and 
in  a  profound  subjection  to  priestly  arrogance  and 
enticements  ;  for  of  tender,  affectionate,  and  domestic 
relative  sensibilities,  they  are  totally  divested. 

The  seclusion,  inactivity,  and  nervous  depression 
which  I  experienced,  were  unfavourable  to  my  health ; 
and  the  symptoms  of  constitutional  debility  that  1  began 
to  manifest,  were  viewed  with  avowed  satisfaction, 
both  by  the  nuns  and  the  priests.  The  change,  how- 
ever, was  very  gradual ;  but  on  the  eighth  anniversary 
of  the  counsellor's  visit,  he  tenderly  noticed  my  ema- 
ciated appearance  ;  and  upon  hearing  the  report  of 
the  physician,  he  became  convinced,  that  at  no  very 
distant  period,  I  should  dwindle  into  **  the  house  ap- 
pointed for  all  living." 

Several  months  passed  away  without  any  percepti- 
ble alteration,  until  one  morning  I  was  suddenly  sum- 
moned into  the  superieure's  apartment :  and  there  to 
my  joyful  surprise,  I  beheld  my  friend  Rohoirsic. 
After  kindly  expressing  his  delight  that  I  appeared 
unchanged,  **  I  have  visited  you,  Louise,  he  remarked, 
to  propose  to  you  a  change  of  habitation  for  a  short 
period.  You  will  Ijve  exactly  the  same ;  but  fresh 
air  may  benefit  you.  I  trust  that  you  will  have  no 
objection."  To  his  offer  I  replied,  "  I  am  not  my 
own  director,  you  know  who  manages  my  concerns,  I 
never  did.  To  me  the  place  of  residence  is  immate- 
rial, as  long  as  I  am  under  your  kind  surveillance." — 
Rohoirsic  nodded  a  smiling  assent. — ^*  Air,  medicine, 
and  exercise,  I  added,  will  be  to<|tlate  applied  to 
restore  my  dilapidated  constitution ;  and  even  could 
they  be  essentially  beneficial,  except  as  it  is  our  duty 
to  use  evei^  means  to  prolong  life  for  usefulness  in  the 


'1 


LORETTl. 


113 


al  habits 
sefulnesg, 
>rity,  and 
ance  and 

domestic 

•     ..ill.  <• 

epression 
y  health ; 
1 1  began 
isfaction, 
ge,  how- 
liversary 
my  eiiia- 
report  of 
no  very 
ouse  ap* 

percepti- 
nly  sum- 
there  to 
ohoirsic. 
ippeared 
marked, 
r  a  short 
lut  fresh 
have  no 
not  my 
iccrns,  I 
immate- 
nee." — 
edicine, 
ilied   to 
n  could 
►ur  duty- 
is  in  the 


■it 


Lord's  service ;    to  a  child  of  sorrow  and  of  solitude, 
like  me,  without  any  opportunity  to  do  good,  or  the 
hope   of  ever   attaining   any   capacity   for   H,  mere 
bodiiy  relief  is  unavailing."     The  lawyer    rejoined^ 
"  To  benefit  you  exclusively,  is  not  our  design.     You 
may  very  essentially  serve  a  fellow  creature  in  great 
and  peculiar  distress.     Agonized  in  mind,  and  diseased 
in  her  frame,  she  wishes  for  a  kindly  attendant,  and  it 
is  believed  that  you   will  exactly  suit.     You  will   be 
required  to  execute  no  menial  or  disagreeable  offices. 
Only  two  things  are   claimed  of  you,  that  you  shall 
divulge   nothing   that  you  see  or  hear,   even   to   the 
superieure  ;**  here  he  tenderly  pressed  my  hand,  with  a 
look  of  aH'ectionate  regard,  **  and  that  you  shall  make  no 
attempt  to   escape  from   my  superi.itendence."     An 
unwonted  smile  almost  unconsciously  overspread  my 
face  at  this  novel  exaction,  while  I  said  to  him,  "  The 
last   requirement,  you   may  be   fully  assured,   I  shall 
never  transgress.     That  you  have  so   long  and  faith- 
fully interested  yourself  for  me  is  my  strongest  conso- 
lation in   reference  to  earth  and  time,  and  the  loss  of 
the  same  care  and  kindness  would  be  my  death-stroke. 
With  regard  to  the  question  of  my  removal,  I  shall 
leave  the  decision  of  it  to  yourself,  as  the  only  com- 
petent judge." — *'  Not  ai;  all,"  answered  Roboirsic,  *'it 
is  altogether  a  matter  of  sensibility.    You  are  requested 
to  perform   an  act  of  charity  towards  an  elderly  wo- 
man, who  cannot  long  survive  the  combined  ravage! 
of  bodily  consumption   and   mental   grief.     By  your 
sympathies,  you  may  be  able  to  sooth  her  in  her  pains, 
and  to  allay  the  pungent  bitterness  under  which  she 
appears  to  labour.     No  person,  therefore,  is  so  good  a 
judge  as  yourself,  whether  your  feelings  will  admit  you 
to  undertake  the  office  proposed." — I  replied,  "  My 
feelings  promptly  decide  me  to  undertake  all  practica- 

*      in 


n 


'' 


n  II  iiii.jiiiwflt^»jw"i"^i 


■^m':wmirf 


\u 


LOniTTB. 


ble  duties,  however  self-denying,  if  I  can  impart  com<« 
fort  to  any  person.  Setting  aside  these  personal  con- 
siderations, what  do  you  advise  me  V*  The  superieure 
here  impertinently  obtruded  her  remark»-— **  It  is  pre* 
ferable  for  you  to  go,  Louise ;  i  there  are  peculiar 
reasons  which  cannot  now  be  communicated,  to  induce 
your  compliance  with  this  request."  Rohoirsic,  to  my 
inquiring  look,  silently  bowed  h!s  head.  Upon  which 
I  immediately  answered,  **  With  all  'my  heart.  I 
shall  be  ready,  when  T*  After  a  pause  of  considera- 
tion, Rohoirsic  addressed  the  superieure,  **  I  shall  be 
here  in  the  morning  at  five.  You  will  remember^  that 
Louise  must  take  with  her  all  her  books  and  personal 
conveniences.'*  With  a  haughty  air,  the  superieure 
aniwered,  **  Certainly,  I  shall  take  care  that  Louise 
is  deprived  of  nothing  which  she  desires  to  remove.*' 

As  soon  as  Rohoirsic  had  withdrawn,  I  was  com- 
manded to  expedite  my  arrangements,  and  in  the  most 
perfect  secrecy ;  that  no  person,  except  the  superieure, 
might  know  of  my  departure.     Precisely  at  the  hour, 

i'ust  before  the  dawn  of  day,  my  friend,  your  counsel- 
or appeared.  I  presented  the  superieure  my  adieu ; 
and  never  since  have  I  beheld  her  or  the  detested 
convent.  On  the  third  evening,  I  was  inclosed  with- 
in the  walls  of  the  nunnery  at  Trois  Rivieres.  During 
the  journey,  Rohoirsic  much  gratified  me  by  the  infor- 
mation which  he  imparted.  "  You  will  be  entirely  un- 
known, Louise,**  he  assured  me;  **  you  are  represented 
to  the  superieure  at  Three  Rivers,  not  as  an  excomrou* 
nicated  incorrigible  apostate  from  their  church,  to  be 
srorned  and  loathed,  but  as  a  hereditary  heretic  to  be 
pitied.  Indeed  your  case  is  stated  to  be  hopeless ; 
but  it  is  extenuated  on  account  of  very  peculiar  griefs, 
which  hive  riveted  your  wrong  opinions,  so  that 
although  you  ire  very  sensible  upon  all  other  matters 


^ 


LORSm. 


lift 


)art  com* 
onal  con- 
uperieurs 
t  is  pre- 

peculiar 
to  induce 

I  to  my 
on  which 
leart.  I 
)nsidera« 
shall  be 
ber,  that 
personal 
perieure 

Louise 
move.'* 
'as  com- 
\he  most 
perieure, 
he  hour, 
counsel- 
r  adieu ; 
detested 
sd  with- 
during 
e  in  for- 
rely  un- 
esented 
ominu* 
>»  to  be 
ic  to  be 
pelest ; 
griefs, 
o  that 
natters 


and  inofiensive  as  a  child ;  yet  upon  the  subject  of 
religion,  you  are  flighty,  very  stubborn,  and  conse- 
quently must  be  left  alone.  The  superieure  has  been 
apprized,  that  you  never  mention  your  opinions,  unless 
other  persons  thoughtlessly  intioduce  an^  objections 
to  them;  and  upon  this  point  she  is  cautioned,  upon 
no  pretext,  to  have  any  intercourse  with  you.  The 
lady  also  who  wishes  for  your  company  has  been  in- 
structed to  believe,  that  you  are  naturally  very  kind, 
and  that  your  acceptance  of  the  proposal  proves  thai 
you  would  not  be  insensible  to  her  necessities  and 
sorrows."  I  was  received  with  much  cordiality.  My 
protector,  before  he  left  the  convent,  thus  addressed 
me.  "You  will  inform  the  superieure  without  hesi- 
tation of  your  wants ;  in  the  supply  of  which  you  will 
be, amply  indulged.  Some  trifles  have  been  provided 
for  you,  which  are  already  in  your  proposed  apart- 
ment. I  shall  see  you  during  the  holydays ;  till  then, 
adieu!" 


r') 


NUNNERY  AT  THREE  RIVER& 

How  blest  the  pilgrim  who  in  trouble 

Can  lean  upon  a  bogom  friend- 
Strength,  courage,  hope,  with  him  redouble, 
"When  foes  assail,  or  griefs  impend. 


Louise  thus  detailed  the  account  of  her  residence  at 
Three  Rivers. 

S-ioee  I  was  forced  away  from  you,  my  brother,  this 
was  the  only  truly  peaceful ^part  of  the  years  which 
have  elapsed.  The  change  was  beneficial.  I  encoun- 
tered no  vexatious  interruptions ;  I  was  not  encircled 
hy  discordant  inmates ;  I  received  no  insults  ;  I  was 
^exempt  from  fatiguing  duties;  and,  for  a  short  season, 
J  was  in  person^  iri^mfort  and  tolerable  health.  Often 


116 


LORETTB. 


have  I  endeavoured  to  transcribe  my  memoranda,  but 
the  internal  conflict  produced  too  much  agitation  for 
the  task.  There  are  emotions  which  no  genius  can 
describe,  and  sympathies  which  no  artist  can  depict. 
The  superieure  was  ever  kind,  but  extremely  guard- 
ed,  and  always  conducted  herself  as  if  she  was  impli- 
citly bound  to  comply  with  the  directions  of  the  bishop 
and  his  vicar-general,  to  whom  she  professed  canoni- 
•cai  obeaience. 

Three  days  elapsed  ere  I  was  informed  of  the  ac- 
tual otject  of  my  transfer  to  Three  Rivers.  The  su- 
perieure requested  my  company  in  the  garden  of  the 
convent,  to  enjoy  the  serenity  of  a  beautiful  afternoon ; 
and  when  we  were  entirely  secluded  in  an  alcove  from 
all  observation,  she  remarked,  "  I  suppose,  Louise, 
that  you  have  been  informed  for  what  purpose  you 
have  been  transferred  to  my  care  ?'*  My  reply  was, 
*'  I  understand  that  I  have  been  requested  to  aid  in 
alleviating  the  sorrows  of  a  female  valetudinarian." 
She  then  inquired,  "  Are  you  still  willing  to  accept 
the  office  which  your  friend  assigned  you  ?**  To  this 
question,  I  answered,  "  I  am  desirous  to  know  the  pre- 
cise duties  which  will  devolve  upon  me.  Any  thing 
which  I  can  do  I  shall  willingly  undertake,  but  I  cannot 
assume  laborious  services  for  which  I  am  incompe- 
tent." The  superieure  subjoined,  **  Your  only  em- 
(ploy  will  be  to  attend  upon  the  lady,  and  if  you  can, 
to  diminish  her  mysterious  and  deep-rooted  sadness. 
In  what  method  that  can  be  effected,  is  left  to  your 
judgment  and  experience.  You  will  be  at  liberty  to 
sleep  in  her  apartment  or  not,  at  your  option*  A  ser- 
vant is  expressly  designated  to  wait  upon  you.  The 
•only  injunction  which  I  am  commanded  to  enforce 
upon  you  is  this,  that  you  are  neither  to  converse  with 
the  lady  when  the  servant  is  present,  nor  to  £ommu- 


■ 


ynrnm.* 


117 


anda,  but 
ation  for 
nius  can 
n  depict, 
y  guard- 
as  impli- 

bishop 
canoni- 

^  the  ac- 
The  sii- 
n  of  the 
ternoon  ; 
ove  from 
Louise, 
ose  you 
3ly  was, 
Eo  aid  in 
narian." 
0  accept 
To  this 
the  pre- 
y  thing 
[cannot 
compe- 
'iiy  em- 
o\i  can, 
idness. 
0  your 
erty  to 
A  ser- 
The 
ioforce 
e  with 
mmu" 


nicate  either  to  her  or  even  to  me  what  year  comfMi* 
nion  tnay  confide  to  you."  I  felt  emfattrnssed  with 
this  condition,  and  replied,  *'  I  am  inexperienced,  and 
may  want  advice  and  assistance,  to  whom  shall  I  ap- 
peal t"  The  superieure  remarked,  "  No  circumstance! 
can  arise,  which  in  this  respect  will  require  the  inter* 
position  of  a  third  person.  In  all  cases  which  refer  to 
her  health,  the  attending  physician  will  be  consulted ; 
and  concerning  your  personal  comforts,  you  will  al* 
ways  recur  to  me,  and  I  shall  take  care  that  not  only 
every  want  shall  be  supplied,  but  all  your  wishes 
shall  be  fully  indulged."  To  this  arrangement  I  con* 
sented,  upon  which  she  instantly  arose,  placed  a  letter 
in  my  hand,  and,  as  she  was  retiring,  she  added,  "  I 
shall  join  you  in  an  hour,  but  remember  inviolable 
secrecy  must  be  maintained ;"  and  she  returned  to  the 
convent. 

My  attention  was  instantly  directed  to  the  seal  and 
superscription,  and  I  fancied  that  they  were  the  same 
with  which  you  and  I  had  formerly  been  so  molested. 
The  conviction  of  their  identity,  as  more  accurate 
scrutiny  confirmed  my  opinion,  almost  overpowered 
me  with  the  portentous  dread  of  some  new  indefina- 
ble calamity.  Tears  partially  relieved  me,  and,  with 
as  much  composure  as  I  could  assume,  I  commended 
myself  to  God,  and  earnestly  implored  his  guidan-:e 
and  support  in  this  novel  perplexity.  My  mind  was 
encouraged,  and  the  recollection  of  his  past  goodness 
fortified  me.  I  realized,  that  worse  evils  than  those 
which  I  already  had  escaped  could  not  befall  me,  and 
the  additional  confidence  which  I  reposed  in  your 
lawyer,  as  the  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Divine  Pro- 
vidence to  guard  and  superintend  my  welfare,  strength- 
ened me.  You  will  sympathize  with  mei  Diganu, 
when  you  perust  the  accompanying  letter. 


118 


LOBKTTB. 


3' 


Louise  M.'       ' 

"  How  shall  I  address  you,  Louise  ?     On  a  former 
occasion  when  you  received  a  letter  from  me,  I  was 
your  tormenting  persecutor,  and  your  base  unnatural 
betrayer ;  now,  I  am  your  penitent,  broken-hearted 
mother!"     M",«)i»Mrv?.    -.  ••j'^- 'i.t    .u  ii')i'''>f  .•»■••;•>;  ri'.>-. 
oi  "  Mother !"  I  involuntarily  exclaimed  with  inex- 
pressible tremour,  for  then  in  a  moment  all  the  horrible 
past,  with  lis  inconceivably  aggravated  criminality, 
rushed  into  my  mind,  "  Mother !"  how  I  felt,  what  I 
thought,  or  even  where  I  was,  I  could  scarcely  com- 
prehend.    All  were  so  commingled  in  a  r  )ecies  of 
temporary  hallucination,  that  I  know  not  v    at  I  said 
in  my  soliloquy  of  appalling  surprise.     The  first  con- 
sistent remembrance  that  I  experienced,  was  the  pre- 
cious application  to  my  soul  of  the  Lord's  words  re- 
corded by  the  prophet  Isaiah.     "  Can  a  woman  forget 
her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  compas- 
sion on  her  son  1     Vea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I 
not  forget  thee."    It  was  a  salutary  cordial  to  my  agi- 
tated heart,  and  at  once  infused  the  idea,  that  I  was 
thus  remarkably  appointed  to  attend  and  support  the 
enfeebled  and  dispirited  woman  by  whom  we  had  been 
ushered  into  the  world.     Dreadful,  however,  as  were 
all  the  former  scenes,  and  aflfecting  as  our  tirst  inter- 
view must  necessarily  be,  yet  I  felt  as  if  divested  of  a 
burden ;  and  instantly  adopted  the  resolution  to  sub- 
mit to  any  thing  for  her  sake,  with  the  hope,  by  Di- 
vine grace,  of  being  instrumental  to  her  soul's  welfare. 
Again  I  besought  the  Saviour's  blessing  in  the  dis- 
charge of  theso  unexpected  duties,  and  then  with  tole- 
rable calmness,  I  studied  the  remainder  of  your  mo- 
liber's  letter. 

She  thus  proceeded,  "  It  is  not  necessary  to  inform 
you  of  any  particulars  with  which  you  will  afterward 


\ 


LOftSTTE. 


119 


a  former 
'e,  I  Was 
in  natural 
i"hearied 

th  inez- 
horribie 
njnality, 
:,  what  I 
jly  com- 
•ecies  of 
at  I  said 
irst  con- 
the  pre- 
ords  re- 
n  forget 
:ompas- 
3t  will  I 
my  agi- 
Lt  I  was 
port  the 
ad  bee  a 
IS  were 
1  inter- 
ed  of  a 
to  sub- 
byDi- 
^elfare. 
he  dis- 
:h  tole- 
ur  mo- 
inform 
Mwurd 


become  acquainted.  Since  our  last  separation,  my 
life  has  been  a  term  of  wretchedness  and  alarm,  justly 
merited,  but  almost  too  great  to  be  borne.  To  allevi- 
ate agonies  which  have  corroded  my  constitution,  and 
which  ail  other  attempts  to  diminish  have  only  em- 
bittered, I  some  time  since  proposed,  that  as  length- 
ened life  for  me  could  not  be  anticipated,  I  might  have 
you  for  my  companion.  With  great  difficulty  the  ob- 
jections to  this  measure  were  vanquished.  Not  that 
the  persons  who  have  us  in  their  bondage  feel  any 
concern  for  our  comfort,  but  they  are  terrified  at  the 
idea  of  any  possible  mode  existing  by  which  your 
past  history  shall  be  published.  Diganu's  rising  cha- 
racter and  influence  in  society,  combined  with  the 
^solute  opposition  and  unyielding  measures  of  Ro- 
hoirsic,  have  intimidated  our  enemies ;  for  now,  they 
are  not  less  mine  than  yours! 

My  wishes  were  conveyed  to  the  counsellor,  with 
the  reasons  by  which  the  plea  was  sanctioned.  The 
chief  argument  urged  against  the  design  was  this, 
that  your  avowed  heretical  opinions,  as  they  are  de- 
nominated,jprecluded  all  intercourse  with  you.  Upon 
this  point,  ifully  satisfied  the  Jesuits,  that  although  I 
was  profoundly  ignorant  of  all  that  you  believed  and 
practised  under  the  name  of  religion,  yet  I  was  not 
less  filled  with  an  unconquerable  detestation  of  them- 
selves and  their  priestcraft,  their  doctrines,  supersti- 
tions, frauds,  and  pursuits ;  that  this  aversion  had  not 
been  imbibed,  as  they  well  knew,  from  any  person  or 
booVibut  that  it  was  the  result  of  my  own  reflections 
in  the  dreariness  of  my  cell>  amid  the  intervals  of  sick- 
ness and  pairv.  As  I  was  no  longer  deemed  worthy 
of  flattery  and  solicitation,  all  their  terrifying  artifices 
were  tried  in  vain.  I  repelled  them  with  their  own 
weapons.    When  they  attempted  to  affright  me  with 


' 


"•^: 


190 


LORCTTE. 


their  excommunication,  I  ridiculed  a  menace,  all  the 
horror  of  which  they  themsel?es  had  extracted :  as 
they  had  often  assured  me,  that  it  was  only  an  instru- 
ment to  manage  the  weak  and  silly  populace,  that 
they  may  be  cajoled  into  a  perfect  acquiescence  with 
their  authority  and  injunctions.  Sometimes  they  de- 
nounced all  the  fires  and  tortures  of  purgatory  and  hell 
as  my  portion.  My  sole  reply  was  a  scornful  retort, 
that  they  themselves  had  often  said,  that  a  future  state 
was  a  fiction,  only  propagated  to  fill  a  priest's  coffers 
with  money  and  to  terrify  the  ignorant  multitude. 
Then  they  would  declare,  that  no  masses  should  be 
said  for  my  soul.  My  answer  was  this,  "You  your- 
selves admit  that  the  mass  is  a  contrivance  only  of  the 
pretres  to  procure  offerings  from  your  stupid  disciplet, 
because  you  confess  to  each  other  your  belief  that  it 
is  impossible  for  any  reasonable  creature  to  credit  the 
doctine  of  transubstantiation,  and  that  it  was  invented 
only  to  support  the  priest's  power  over  the  foolish 
people,  who  are  taught  that  you  can  make  and  eat 
your  god  whenever  you  please,  and  then  you  absolve 
each  other  for  your  shameless  hypocrjfy."  Upon 
various  occasions,  they  threatened  me  with  everlasting 
burnings  both  body  and  soul  at  the  future  retribution. 
This  I  repelled,  by  assuring  them  that  they  had  oft«n 
taught  us,  and  we  all  supposed  their  account  to  be 
true,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's  immortality,  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  a  judgment  to  come,  and 
in  short,  that  all  their  pretended  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  was  only  a  profitable  fable  for  the  pope  and  the 
priests.  But  although  I  resolutely  opposed  all  their 
attempts  longer  to  govern  me,  yet  I  wasactuated  only 
by  the  spontaneous  dictates  of  my  own  mind,  for  I 
<;annot  perceive,  that  a  religion  which  transforms  all 
tociety  into  a  pleasure-house  for  the  indulgence  of  a 


t 
I 

] 
1 


LORETTE. 


131 


ce,  all  the 
acted :  as 
an  instru- 
lace,  that 
?nce  with 
they  de- 
l  and  hell 
ul  retort, 
ture  state 
t's  coffers 
lultitude. 
>hoi]ld  be 
ou  your- 
ilyof  the 
disciplet,     I 
ef  that  it    «  l  . 
:redit  the       | 
invented 
3  foolish 
and  eat 
I  absolve 
•     Upon 
eriasting 
ribution. 
ad  ofton 
int  to  be 
lity,  the 
me,  and 
•f  Jesus 
and  the 
ill  their 
ed  only 
d,  for  I 
»rn}8  all 
tee  of  a 


few  pretres,  can  be  of  any  value ;  and  my  own  expe- 
rience led  me  to  conclude,  as  they  proclaim,  that  all 
their  pretended  religion  is  a  fabulous  imposture.  My 
natural  conscience,  however,  was  still  partially  in  ex- 
ercise. I  was  tossed  to  ^nd  fro,  as  in  a  tempest.  I 
could  not  undoubtingly  admit,  that  there  is  no  God, 
no  eternity,  and  no  difference  between  virtue  and  vice. 
I  cannot  now  believe,  that  the  wicked  are  equally 
good  and  estimable  as  the  virtuois,  and  that  when  we 
die,  all  mankind  are  extinguisbcju.  In  proportion  as  I 
was  forced  to  deny  the  delusive  doctrines  of  the  pre- 
tres and  the  chaplain,  my  agony  became  intense.  I 
reflected  upon  what  I  had  been  and  what  I  had  done. 
My  mind  was  totally  empty  of  all  satisfaction,  and  I 
rejected  all  my  former  deceptions,  with  no  truth  to 
enlighten  or  dfrect  me.  All  my  ideas  were  fraught 
with  fearful  remorse  and  withering  anguish,  until  a 
ray  of  light  and  hope  glimmered  over  me,  when  the 
€udden  impression  first  entered  my  mind  to  claim 
your  attendance.  I  insisted,  and  they  refused.  I  per- 
severed, and  they  were  obstinate.  The  counsellor 
arrested  thf^ir  attention  more  pointedly  to  the  object 
by  co-opera .ing  with  me.  Finally  it  was  arranged, 
that  I  f?hould  be  removed  to  Three  Rivers,  and  that 
you  should  meet  me  here.  My  chief  motive,  I  confess, 
was  selfish.  I  was  anxious  for  an  associate,  in  whom 
I  could  confide,  and  from  whom,  if  possible,  I  might 
iearn  the  way  of  true  repentance,  that  I  may  die  m 
feeble  hope,  if  not  in  perfect  peace.  The  superieure 
knows  nothing  cf  our  affairs,  except  that  we  are  mo- 
ther and  daughter,  and  reputed  heretics,  who  must  be 
indulged  in  our  accursed  errors,  as  the  priests  name 
them.  We  are  also  characterized  as  two  miserable 
half  crazy  idiots,  who  for  a  long  time  have  been  sepa- 
rated,  bat  whose  friends  are  so  influential,  that  we 


J; 


m 


LORfiTTB. 


must  enjoy  tender  care  and  affectionate  treatment.  It 
was  necessary  that  you  should  thus  be  apprized  of 
our  new  relationship  before  you  see  me ;  and  also  of 
my  desires,  that  you  may  not  recoii  with  aversion, 
bad  you  recognised  your  former  most  unnatural,  trea* 
cherous  and  vile  temper.  I  can  make  you  no  atone- 
ment for  the  past,  nor  promises  for  the  future,  except 
that  you  will  not  find  your  detestable  fellow  traveller 
to  Jacques  Cartier,  in 

Your  repentant  and  sorrowful  mother, 

Thbrese. 
'  The  superieure  returned  to  me  before  I  had  fully 
recovered  my  equanimity,  *•  Have  you  any  message 
or  communication,'*  she  asked,  "  for  Therese  ?"  In 
reply  I  stated,  *'  Be  so  good  as  to  inform  her,  that  I 
shall  prepare  an  answer  to  her  letter,  which  shall  be 
presented  to  you  in  the  morning.'*  After  much  deli* 
Deration,  I  sealed,the  sheet  which  you  will  peruse,  my 
brother,  with  melancholy  emotions.  You  will  per* 
ceive  that  it  is  stained  with  my  tears  and  marked  with 
my  blots.  My  agitated  spirits  did  not  permit  me  to 
dwell  upon  the  shocking  retrospect.  Besides,  our  ap<* 
proaching  interview  and  subsequent  residence  in  the 
same  apartments  rendered  all  discussion  superfluous, 
except  those  declarations  which  were  adapted  to  pre- 
pare the  mind  of  Therese  for  an  amicable  reception, 
pnd  for  candid  intercourse. 
Therese : 

*'  Your  letter  fills  me  with  the  utmost  surprise,  and 
excites  the  most  contradictory  emotions.  To  find  a 
mother  after  having  never  known  what  that  endear- 
ing >yord  means !  but  to  discover  my  mother  in  you  I 
Had  not  so  many  other  painful  circumstances  autho- 
rized your  claim,  the  fact  would  be  incredible.  I  can* 
not  reproach  yoUf  I  pity  your  anguish,  and  most  wilU 


\ 


I     ?5 


LORETrB. 


121 


ment.  It 
prized  of 
d  also  of 
aversion, 
ral»  tret- 
10  atone- 
e»  except 
traveller 


ERESE. 

■ad  fully 
message 
e?"    In 
r,  that  I 
shall  be 
ich  deli* 
ruse,  my 
nil  per* 
«ed  with 
it  me  to 
,  our  ap- 
e  in  the 
tAuous, 
to  pre- 
cepiion, 


ise,  and 
find  a 
endear- 
n  you  I 
autho- 
I  can* 
St  wilU 


itigly  consent  lo  try  my  feeble  energies  to  relieve  it. 
But  I  must  insist,  that  unless  you  choose  to  detail  your 
past  history,  that  I  may  understand  in  what  way  most 
efTectually  to  assuage  your  sorrows,  I  may  not  hear 
any  illustrations  of  former  events,  except  for  the  sake 
of  Diganu.     A  penitent,  heart-broken  mother !     Ah» 
what  do  these  epithets  convey  ]     Yet  I  rejoice,  if  you 
are  sorrowful,  that  you  are  repentant ;  and  I  bless  God, 
that  "the  sacrifice  of  a  broken  spirit  and  a  contrite 
heart,  he  will  not  despise."    You  have  rejected  the 
priest's  odious  doctrines  and  criminal   temptations ! 
then  I  may  hope,  with  the  Divine  aid,  to  be  of  some 
benefit  to  you,  and  gladly  shall  I  consecrate  my  hours 
to  promote  your  spiritual  instruction  and  personal  com- 
fort.    To  be  a  blessing  to  you  in  your  decline  will  be 
ample  compensation  for  my  past  trials,  afflictions,  and 
disappointments.     You  represent  yourself  as  a  very 
different  person  in  appearance  from  what  you  were 
when  we  last  parted,  and  what  is  Louise  ?    I  am  told 
by  Rohoirsic,  that  I  am  so  alteredt  Diganu  himself 
would  scarcely  recognise  me.     I  shall  submit  myself 
entirely  to  your  control,  so  far  as  is  proper,  and  will 
endeavour,  by  unceasing  assiduity,  to  prove  my  entire 
willingness  to  serve  you,  while  I  am  learning  the  les- 
sons which  appertain  to  a  devotedi  f&ilhful,  and  affec- 
tionate daughter. 

. '    '  Louise. 

The  reply  to  my  note  was  a  verbal  message  by  the 
superieure,  "  Therese  proposes  to  receive  you  this  af- 
ternoon." I  knew  not  how  to  occupy  the  anxious  and 
perplexing  in^'^rval.  If  I  attempted  to  read  my  other- 
wise most  attractive  author,  he  interested  me  not. 
My  bible,  "  more  to  be  desired  than  much  fine  gold," 
could  not  fix  my  vagrant  mind.  Even  prayer  itself 
did  not  allay  my  feverish  emotions.    The  houra  clapa; 


4, 


124 


LORETTE- 


ed  in  a  round  of  capricious  fancies  which  were  desti- 
tute of  every  semblance  of  reality.     When  I  was  mo- 
mentarily serious,  or  when  actually  offering  the  fervid 
petition  to  "the  throne  of  grace,"  I   was  becalmed: 
but  my  roving  imagination   instantly  passed   agaia 
those  rational  boundaries,  and  left  me  bewildered  in 
retrospective  rambinations,  which  you  alone,  Diganu, 
can  accuicitriy  conceive.     As  the  hour  of  our  inter- 
view approached,  I  became  more  agitated  and  inde- 
terr»;inate  how  to  speak  or  act.     I  could  only  trust  in 
God  for  his  indispensable  aid  and  direction.     At  last, 
in  excessive  agitation,  I  was  conducted  to  a  door  of  a 
room  by  the  superieure,  "  This,"  said  she,  "  is  The- 
rese*s    apartment."  *  With  a  languid    palpitation   of 
heart,  I  advanced,  the  door  was  closed,  and  for  the 
first  time,  I  was  in  the  presence  of  my  avowed  mother. 
Our  ignorance  of  each  other  was  mutual.    So  great 
was  the  dissimilitude  between  the  woman  who  grasped 
me  at  Lorette,  and  Therese  in  the  convent  at  Three 
Rivers,  that  I  dared  not  speak.     I  could  not  admit  the 
identity.    We  continued  to  gaze  at  each  other  in  joint 
surprise.     After  a  long  and  agitating  pause,  a  voice 
scarcely  human  uttered,  "Come  near  me,  let  me  see 
if  you  are  Louise  indeed,  let  me  look  at  my  cross  on 
your  forehead."     The    sound,  although   sepulchral, 
was  the  same.     No  lapse  of  years  could  obliterate  the 
former  words  which  she  addressed  to  the  cure,  "  Come 
here,  look  at  this  cross  on  her  forehead  !"   For  a  mo- 
ment, I  almost  fancied  myself  again  in  the  church  at 
Lorette,  writhing  in  all  the  agonies  of  that  tremendous 
scene.    "  Fear  not,"  she  presently  added,  "if  you  are 
my  Louise,  I  shall  instantly  know  you,  although  we 
cannot  recognise  each  other's  person,  and  I  will  soon 
prove  to  you  that  I  was  your  guilty  en^my  at  Lorette." 
.  Trembling,  I  obeyed  the  invitation,  and .  knelt  before,' 


\ 


re  destl- 
was  mo- 
le fervid 
calmed : 
d   again 
dered  in 
Diganu, 
jr  inter- 
tid  inde- 
trust  in 
At  last, 
3oor  of  a 
is  The- 
ation   of 
,  for  the 
1  mother. 
So  great 
>  grasped 
It  Three 
dmit  the 
in  joint 
a  voice 
me  see 
cross  on 
pulchral, 
rate  the 
"  Come 
or  a  mo- 
hurch  at 
nendous 
you  are 
)ugh  we 
vili  soon 
lorette.'* 
It  before; 


LORETTE* 


(26 


her,  who  was  seated  in  an  easy  chair.  She  threw 
back  my  hair,  it  was  the  same  mysterious  touch,  kiss- 
ed the  cross,  told  me  to  rise,  directed  me  to  a  drawer, 
and  before  my  eyes  was  the  very  same  dress  which  I 
wore  at  Lorette,  and  of  which  she  had  divested  me 
immediately  after  our  arrival  at  the  general  hospital. 
Ail  incredulity  at  once  was  extinguished. 

For  some  time,  we  both  maintained  a  natural  re- 
serve,  but  it  gradually  disappeared.  For  she  realized 
in  me  a  friend  whom  she  had  never  before  known, 
and  I  found  in  Therese,  a  tenderness  which  I  suppose 
mothers  only  can  feel  and  display.  The  first  prelimi- 
nary to  be  adjusted  was  the  manner  of  addressing 
her.  I  could  not  adapt  myself  to  use  the  term  mother, 
\  and  she  insisted  that  I  should  call  her  Therese,  being 
the  only  appellative  to  v/hich  she  had  been  accustom- 
ed. "Besides,"  she  remarked,  weepi rig  with  great 
perturbation^  "  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  respectful  and 
endeared  title  of  mother.  It  presupposes  a  relation 
which  I  never  sustained  to  you,  affections  1  have 
never  yet  experienced,  and  duties  that  I  have  not  per- 
formed."     (•! 

Therese  almost  constantly  developed  the  same  heart- 
rending uneasiness,  an  uninterrupted  bitter  compunc- 
tion for  her  past  actions,  an  insatiable  avidity  to  obtain 
saving  knowledge,  and  increasing  attachment  to  your 
Louise.  Her  bodily  strength  decreased  almost  imper- 
ceptibly, and  was  only  manifested  in  the  feebleness  of 
her  steps,  and  the  gradual  restriction  of  the  length  of 
our  promenade.  Until  we  became  more  unreserved, 
to  read  to  her  the  scriptures  and  my  other  books  was 
my  chief  employ.  Sometimes  she  would  propound  a 
question  for  information,  when  she  apprehended  a 
liability  to  mistake;  but  generally  she  was  absorbed 
in  her  own  meditations.    The  first  exhibition  of  a 

11 


I 


««ip<BVP<r  "ui.uiuii, 


'I! 


126 


LORETTE. 


wish  for  more  familiar  intercourse  was  a  request  that 
I  would  communicate  to  her  the  particulars  of  my 
escape  from  the  pretre's  house ;  and  my  subsequent 
history  while  a  resident  with  you.  "  I  have  no  wish, 
Louise,'*  she  added,  "  to  distress  yoii  by  the  recital. 
My  only  reasons  for  desiring  you  minutely  to  retrace 
your  sufferings  are  these — that  thereby  I  may  more 
accurately  understand  your  mental  exercises,  and  also 
promote  Diganu's  welfare.  I  can  gladden  you  by  the 
assurance  of  the  latter;  and  trust  that  I  shall  learn 
something  of  the  operations  of  conscience,  from  your 
detail  of  the  manner  in  which  truth  irradiated  your 
mind."  I  also  observed,  as  the  scriptures  became 
more  impressed  upon  her  thoughts,  that  her  expres- 
sions of  penitence  were  more  consistent,  and  that  she 
grew  in  correct  knowledge  of  the  genuine  character 
and  design  of  Christianity.  Yet  a  soul-wringing  tone 
of  despair,  and  an  ear-tingling  expression  of  anguish 
were  often  mingled  with  all  her  penitential  acknow- 
ledgments. While  I  applied  the  tender  invitations  of 
redeeming  mercy  to  her  condition,  she  repelled  them. 
She  thought  that  there  vas  nothing  in  the  sacred 
records  which  resembled  her  case  ;  and  the  volume  of 
-divine  love  seemed,  in  her  apprehension,  to  be  only 
,the  authentic  declaration  of  her  doom  to  everlast- 
ing wo.  In  its  doctrines,  consolations,  and  examples, 
as  revealed  by  the  oracles  of  God,  religion  appeared 
too  elevated.  It  did  not  in  her  estimate  adapt  itself  to 
.'the  peculiar  self-abhorrence  which  she  realized  ;  and 
,Jt  propounded  no  pattern  of  a  person  whose  transgres- 
.  sions  had  been  clothed  with  enormity  similar  to  that 
which  characterized  her  wickedness.  Her  sorrow  for 
.sin,  therefore,  produced  no  correct  confidential  petition 
^for  mercy.  She  dreaded  the  indignation  of  the  judge, 
and  longed  that  bis  wrathful  sentence  should  be  avert- 

U 


\ 


'«!* 


LORSTTE* 


187 


[uest  that 
s  of  my 
ibsequent 
no  wish, 
i  recitalc 
lo  retrace 
nay  more 
,  and  also 
ou  by  the 
lall  learn 
rom  your 
ted  your 
5  became 
r  expres- 
1  that  she 
character 
ffinof  tone 
'  anguish 
acknow- 
talions  of 
led  them, 
e  sacred 
olume  of 
>  be  only 
everlast- 
jxamples, 
appeared 
t  itself  to 
ced ;  and 
ransgres- 
ir  to  that 
irrow  for 
1  petition 
le  judge, 
be  avert- 


ed ;  but  she  could  not  admit  the  extension  even  of 
the  godlike  Saviour's  mercy  to  such  a  heinous  crimi- 
nal. Upon  considering  this  state  of  her  mind,  I 
thought  that  by  distinctly  unfolding  my  own  spiritual 
maladies  and  the  methods  of  cure,  with  apposite 
remarks,  I  might  assist  her  judgment,  and  obtain  addi- 
tional influence  over  her.  But  it  was  very  difficult 
to  decide  upon  the  most  efficient  means  and  the  most 
suitable  periods.  From  internal  disquietude  and  ner- 
vous irritability,  combined  with  her  varying  corporeal 
alternations  of  strength  and  feebleness,  and  also  from 
the  remains  of  that  artificial  character  which  had  pre^ 
viously  belonged  to  her,  Therese  was  occasionally 
captious ;  and  although  her  attachment  for  me  ap- 
peared stable  and  sincere,  yet  in  the  exhibition  of  it, 
she  was  sometimes  exceedingly  capricious.  My  inex- 
perience was  often  nonplussed  in  overcoming  her 
waywardness ;  and  it  was  probably  almost  imprac- 
ticable for  her  to  subdue  all  those  suspicions  of  my 
fidelity,  which  our  extraordinary  situation  could  not 
fail  to  excite.  To  remove  these  inauspicious  feelings 
constituted  another  argument  for  my  manifesting  all 
possible  sympathy  with  her,  by  compliance  with  her 
desires.  'i^   v -.■    %q     .-•.v  .*»    ^.  -i-r 

She  was  also  very  solicitous  to  ascertain  how  I 
began  to  doubt  the  infallibility  of  the  priests  and  their 
doctrines.  This  induced  me  to  narrate  my  interview 
with  the  dying  Marguerite.  "  Ah  !"  remarked  The- 
rese, when  I  had  finished,  "  her  account  was  true. 
Frequently  did  she  admonish  me  against  my  foolish 
opinions  ;  but  she  did  it  so  cautiously,  that  I  could 
never  find  any  thing  to  report  to  the  priests  to  her 
prejudice.  She  was  blessed  in  her  humble  station, 
for  as  she  had  no  money  to  bestow  for  masses,  abso- 
lutions, and  all  their  other  Jesuitical  impostures,  they 


i^. 


r  ,  ■ 


fi 


It. 


ii 


128 


LORETTE. 


cared  not  for  her  attendance  upon  them,  and  thus  she 
was  despised  as  beneath  their  scrutiny."     I  replied, 
"  I  did  not  understand  from  Marguerite,  that  ^»he  ever 
had  cautioned  and  warned  you  as  she  did  me."     The- 
rese  answered,  "  Not  at  all.     Had  she  told  me  twenty- 
five  years  before,  the  same  things  which  she  addressed 
to   you,  her   life   would    have   been  the    immediate 
forfeit."     I  instantly  demanded,  "  How  then,  Therese, 
could,  she  have   admonished  you  against  your  false 
sentiments  ?"    Therese  rejoined,  "  She  discovered  my 
danger,   without   doubt,   from   the   prior   knowledge 
which  she  had  acquired,  and  from  the  silly  declara- 
tions that  I  made.     I  used  to  tell  her  that  we  must 
not  offend  the  holy  pretres.     She   would  look  grave, 
and  ask  me,  *  whether  is  it  better  to  please  God  or  the 
priest?*     I  would  try  to  convince  her  that  this  was 
the  same  thing.     'I  pity  you,  my  dear!'    would  she 
say,  '  but  suppose  God  commands  any  thing  and  the 
priest  forbids  hi    or  suppose  the  priest  enjoins  you  to 
perform  any  action  which   God  prohibits,   in  those 
cases  you  cannot  please  both  those  conflicting  authori- 
ties V    But  I  would  say,  '  Your  supposition  is  impossi- 
ble, because  the  priest  being  infallible,  can  only  tell  us 
what    God    orders,  and    we   can    know    what   God 
directs  only  by  the  priest's  explanation  and    instruc- 
tions.'    At  these  absurd  speeches  she  would  be  silent, 
or  sometimes  speak  to  herself,  and   often  I  thought, 
maugre  all  her  endeavours  to  conceal  it,  that  1  saw  on 
her  countenance  a  smile  of  unbelieving  contempt.     I 
was  then  too  ignorant  and  enslaved  to  comprehend 
her  meaning;    now  I  should  know  its  purport."     I 
answered,  "  When   we  correctly   examine   ourselves 
and  our  individual  responsiblity,  it  is  most  mortifying 
to  human  pride,  and  indeed  almost  incredible,  that 
•ny  persons  can  risk  their  eternal  salvation  upon  such 


LORfiTTE. 


129 


thus  she 
replied, 
she  ever 
'     The. 
twenty. 
Idressed 
I  mediate 
Fherese, 
)ur  fjilse 
ered  my 
owiedge 
declara. 
ive  must 
k  grave, 
3d  or  the 
iiis  was 
ould  she 
and  the 
s  you  to 
in  those 
auihori* 
impossi- 
lyteil  us 
lat   God 
instruc- 
le  silent, 
thought, 
saw  on 
mpt.     I 
prehend 
ort."     I 
urselves 
mifying 
lie,  that 
on  such 


\ 


gross  delusions."  Therese  inquired,  "  Did  you  never 
believe,  Louise,  that  it  is  mortal  sin  to  offend  the  pre- 
UesV*  To  this  question  I  replied,  "ISot  exactly  in 
all  its  extent.  Before  1  had  been  fully  trained.  Mar- 
guerite had  given  me  some  gospel  eye-salve  which 
enabled  me  to  inspect  for  myself.  Hesitation  followed ; 
and  the  person  who  once  begins  to  doubt  the  priests* 
infallible  supremacy,  speedily  rejects  all  their  abomi- 
nations. But  was  there  no  other  point  on  which  she 
spoke  to  you?"  Therese  said,  "Yes;  I  remember 
once,  in  particular,  after  I  was  boasting  of  having 
be'en  absolved  by  the  chaplain  of  all  my  sins,  both  ve- 
nial and  mortal,  that  Marguerite  asked  me,  '  What  is 
the  difference  between  those  kinds  of  sins  V  I  could 
not  define  my  own  notions,  which  I  had  imbibed  from 
the  priests ;  but  my  reply  was  to  this  effect,  mortal 
sins  are  those  which  are  done  against  the  laws,  power, 
and  interest  of  our  holy  church,  and  all  other  offences 
are  only  venial  sins  which  will  be  purified  by  the  fire 
of  purgatory."  I  inquired,  "When  you  attempted  to 
enforce  upon  me  the  belief  of  this  blasphemous  and 
polluting  doctrine,  did  you  really  give  credit  to  it?" 
With  a  groan  and  sobbing,  which  bespoke  her  inter- 
nal agony,  Therese  rejoined,  "  Certainly,  Louise.  I 
was  then  so  blinded  by  their  deceiifulness,  so  infatu- 
ated by  their  artifices,  so  corrupted  by  habitual  ungod- 
liness, and  so  hardened  by  their  infidelity,  ceremonies, 
sins,  confessions,  and  priestly  absolutions,  that  I  could 
have  perpetrated  any  crime,  and  deemed  it  a  virtue,  if 
the  pretres  had  comn(ianded  me."  I  almost  involun- 
tarily exclaimed,  "  Blessed  be  God,  who  redeemed  my 
life  from  destruction  for  my  marvellous  deliverance ! 
but  w^hen  you  uttered  this  irrational  distinction  in  your 
estimate  of  wickedness,  did  Marguerite  make  no  re- 
mark?" .^Thefese  continued,  *•  She  cast  upon  me  a 


!!• 


:', 


i 


kd 


j-f 


A 


/ 


180 


LO^tftt, 


scrutinizing  look,  doubtless  to  ascertain  whether  I  was 
actually  lost  to  all  sense  of  female  decorum,  and  read- 
ing in  my  features  that  some  remains  of  innocence 
existed,  she  begged  me  not  to  think  so  lightly  of  sia 
before  God,  as  to  suppose,  that  the  transgression  of  his 
commands  could  pass  unpunished.     I  observed  in  re- 
ply, 'The  evil  is  done  away  by  our  own  pennnce,  the 
pope*s  indulgences  and  the  priest's  pardoil.'  She  next 
demanded,  '  But  what  are  the  fins  which  can  thus  be 
remitted  V   I  answered,  'Oil  know  not  particularly  ; 
all  that  matter,  you  know,  the  priest  explains  when  I 
go  to  confession  !'     Marguerite  then  said,  *  Very  well; 
but  suppose  the  pretre  should  tell  you  that  it  is  no 
sin  to  blaspheme  God,  to  utter  falsehoods,  or  to  live 
unchastely,  will  you  believe  himT     I  replied,  'You 
know  that  if  the  priest  orders  me  to  perform  any  ac- 
tion, then  it  loses  all  its  sinful  qualities.'     She  real- 
ized instantly,  that  I  was  well  fitted  for  their  most 
unholy  designs.'*     I  answered,  "After  all  that  I  have 
myself  felt  and  heard  upon  this  wretched  subject,  I 
can  scarcely  conceive,  Therese,  that  this  rule  of  action 
is  seriously  believed  by  any  persons  in  their  senses. 
The  inclination  to  vice  must  have  become  ungovern- 
able, before  an  opinion  so  clearly  destructive  of  all 
morality  can  possibly  be  received  by  any  rational  be- 
ings; and  then  it  must  be  avowed  solely  to  palliate 
and  justify  their  sinful  course."     Therese  responded, 
"Yet  you  must  undoubtedly  have  been  taught  that 
fundamental  doctrine  of  their  church,  and  had   not 
Marguerite  pointed  out  its  gross  ofTensiveness  by  the 
personal  application  to  yourself;  and  had  you  been 
earlier  exposed  to  all  the  contagion  of  seductive  exam- 
ples in  the  convent,  and  to  all  the  insnaring  blandish- 
ments of  the  chaplain  and  other  priests,  without  inter- 
misftibn^  r«8tr&int>  and  coant€r«ciion  i  do  d^ou  thiok» 


it 


^, 


■^ 


LORUtTB. 


]di 


her  I  was 

ind  read. 

nnocence 

ly  of  sin 

on  of  his 

ed  in  re- 

nnce,  ihe 

She  next 

n  thus  be 

icularly ; 

s  when  I 

ery  \ve[l ; 

it  is  no 

or  to  live 

ed,  'You 

II  any  ac- 

5he  real- 

beir  most 

at  I  have 

subject,  I 

of  action 

ir  senses. 

ingovorn- 

ve  of  all 

tional  be- 

0  palliate 

Jsponded, 

Jght  that 

had   not 

?s  by  the 

^'ou  been 

ve  exnrn- 

blahdish- 

)ut  inter- 

m  ihiokt 


Louise,  that  you  would  have  defied  successfully  every 
tempiatibh,  and  vanquished  all  their  terrors?"  My 
answer  was,  "  I  shudder  at  your  disgusting  picture, 
Therese,  and  adore  the  Sovereign  and  merciful  Dis- 
poser of  events,  that  I  escapeid  the  horrible  abyss. 
Ru  did  Marguerite's  indirect  instructions  shed  no 
light  upon  your  mind  ?"  My  trembling  and  weeping 
associate  replied,  "  No,  for  1  urged  upon  her,  our  duty 
to  believe  every  thing  the  priests  tell  us,  and  to  do  all 
that  they  say  without  the  least  hesitaliort.  This  I 
contended  was  the  only  source  of  our  peace  and  safe- 
ty." Here  I  interposed,  "  If  Marguerite  nt  that  period 
believed  as  she  did  on  her  dying  bed,  I  should  think 
that  so  monstrous  a  principle  must  have  been  rejected 

bv'  her."  -i    w  >  ■n.il    i«:^*;;'    i         .»'  '      ■ 

'*  Listen,  Louise,"  she  added,  with  great  agitation, 
"  Marguerite  appeared  to  be  deeply  affected  by  my 
folly.  '  I  am  a  Christian  woman,'  she  remarked,  *and 
have  never  had  the  soundness  of  my  faith  disputed, 
but  1  cannot  believe  every  thing  I  have  been  told. 
.When  a  Htile  child,  did  you  not  read  the  book  of  fa- 
V)les1  But  you  never  supposed,  that  the  wolf  and  the 
lamb  actually  argued  about  the  water  flowing  down 
the  hill,'  she  glanced  at  me  with  her  well-remember- 
ed expressive  and  piercing  eye,  'although  I  have  often 
seen  human  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  devour  thcj  in- 
nocent lambs.'  Ah!  Louise,  now  I  bitterly  know 
what  she  intended,  and  often  since  have  I  been  har- 
rowed and  astonished  that  I  did  not  comprehend  her 
exactly  appropriate  allusion.  Doubtless  perceiving 
that  in  this  covert  manner  I  was  impenetrable,  she 
made  another  attempt,  and  gradually  proceeded,  until 
her  attacks  would  have  rescued  me,  had  I  not  been  so 
irrecoverably  duped  and  blindfolded.  *If  a  priest 
should  State  to  you,'  she  in^uiredj  *  that  being  duly 


,:f.. 


fV 


^^' 


til 


in 


LORETTfi. 


commissioned  and  qualified  by  the  pope,  he  can  ahro* 
£ate  the  ten  commandments,  will  you  believe  him?' 
To  this  startling  question  I  answered,  'I  should  sup- 
pose that,  if  I  differed  from  him  in  opinion,  my  senti- 
ments are  incorrect!'  She  instantly  remarked,  'Then 
you  would  admit  his  interpretation  of  the  Divine  law 
to   be   true,  though  he  flatly  contradicted   its  only 
meaning  and  its  plain  express  words  V     This  exposi- 
tion rather  staggered  me,  so  that  wiih  some  hesitation 
I  replied,  *  Undoubtedly,   Marguerite,   because   you 
know  it  is  not  for  us  to  set  up  our  judgment  against 
•our  holy  mother  the  church,  of  which  the  pretres  are 
the  ordained  infallibly  speaking  tribunal.'"  Once  more 
I  interrupted  Therese,  and  said,  '*  That  principle  I  know 
to  be  correct.     I  even  fully  assented  to  it  as  a  gener  1 
theory,  after  I  had  discards  '  it  in  its  personal  applica- 
tion to  myself.     This  fact,    '  *>refore,  is  convincing 
proof,  not  only  of  the  great  ia..    v  of  that  wicked 
•claim,  but  also  that  the  most  oblii?ato.  '  laws  of  moral 
rectitude  are  effaced  by  the  Jesuit  priests.    Our  Lord 
Jesus  gave  us  for  his  golden  rule,  'all  things  whatso- 
€ver  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even 
so  unto  them:*  but  I  coulu  permit  th«  wolves  to  con- 
tinue in  their  merciless  ruin  of  the  lambs,  provided 
they  did  not  rend  me;  ard  had  not  the  revolting  pic- 
ture whicli  Marguerite  drew  aided  the  undying  im- 
pression, while  I  should  have  condemned  the  crime 
if  perpetrated  against  myself,  in  reference  to  others, 
I  should  have  justified  the  criminal."   My  companion 
added,  '*  Had  I  then  possessed  the  smallest  particle  of 
becoming  feminine  sensibility,  or  of  sound  rational 
intellect,  I  must  have  glimpsed  enough  of  my  own 
foolishness,  at  least,  to  have  guarded  me  against  the 
direct  assaults  of  unveiled  iniquity,  but  I  was  so  chain- 
ed in  their  Jesuitictl  trammels,  that  nothing  aroused 


in 


\ 


\ 


at 


"»WIV' 


LOllETTfi. 


133 


\ 


me,  until  1  was  immured  in  seclusion  and  racked  with 
pnin.  Of  this  truth  you  will  be  fully  convinced, 
Louise,  when  I  have  communicated  lo  you  the  re- 
mainder of  Mirjifueriie's  circuitous  instructions."  She 
paused,  and  I  further  remarked,  "As  these  opinions 
were  not  all  addressed  lo  you  upon  one  occasion, 
Therese,  how  was  it  possible  for  you  to  evade  the  in- 
fluence of  her  counsel,  when  Marguerite's  advice  and 
cautions  were  presented  to  you  at  different  times,  and 
at  distant  intervals?"  Therese  answered,  "  Well  may 
you  as.k  that  question,  but  indeed  I  scarcely  ever 
thought  of  Marguerite  or  of  our  conversations,  except 
when  I  was  present  with  her.  I  was  loo  frivolous 
and  gay,  and  wns  always  impressed  with  the  convic- 
tion, for  so  the  Jesuits  taught  us,  that  all  appearances 
of  greater  gravity  and  less  attachment  for  self-indul- 
gence and  youthful  pleasures  in  the  elder  nuns,  were 
not  the  result  of  disinclination,  but  of  satiety,  or  hypo- 
crisy, or  of  incapacity  from  feebleness  or  age  to  enjoy 
their  former  habitual  dissipation."  To  this  acknow- 
ledgment I  subjoined,  "  That  is  truf».  I  was  ofiea 
obliged  to  listen  to  that  soul-destroying  tale,  until  all 
that  I  knew  of  the  world  appeared  as  one  vast  mass 
of  thoughtlessness  and  vanity.  In  the  circle  where 
the  pretres  move,  shocking  as  is  the  fact,  your  state- 
ment is>  lamentably  verified." 

"  Let  me  proceed,  Louise,"  desired  my  conipauion,. 
"  during  one  interview,  and  when  probably  from  what 
she  either  saw  or  heard.  Marguerite  suspected  that  I 
was  on  the  verge  of  being  sacrificed,  she  again  intro-' 
duced  that  important, subject.  Apparently  as  a  matter^ 
only  of  curiosity,  she  inquired,  *  Are  you  of  your  former 
opinion  respecting  the  believing  and  doing  of  every 
thing  exactly  as  the  priests  desire  or  command^  J 
promptly  said,  •  Yes !'  The  old  woman  retorted, '  Sup- 


>.. 


-'S 


n 


|[   !    I 


134 


LORETTE. 


pose  a  heretic  should  declare  to  you  that  the  church 
is  a  theatre,  and  the  priest  and  his  assistants  are  only 
actors,  and  that  every  Sunday  you  and  all  the  people 
go  there  to  see  a  farce  performed,  will  you  believe 
him  V  1  rejoined,  *  Marguerite,  how  can  you  ask  such 
a  silly  question  1  do  you  think  that  I  could  be  impo* 
sed  upon  by  so  stupid  and  contradictory  an  assertion  V 
she  immediately  answered,  *  Not  at  all ;  but  suppose 
the  pretre  should  tell  you,  that  the  church  is  a  chest- 
nut, and  that  all  the  people  who  go  into  it  are  the  ker- 
nel,  and  that  one  hundred  millions  of  people  had 
cracked  the  same  nut  and  eaten  the  same  kernel,  many 
times  annually  during  eighteen  hundred  years  past, 
that  he  who  built  the  church  was  eaten  up  in  the  nut 
before  he  laid  the  foundation  stone,  and  that  although, 
according  to  the  pretre's  account,  the  kernel  of  the  nut, 
that  is,  the  church,  the  builder,  and  the  people,  has 
been  eaten  up  eighteen  hundred  thousand  millions 
of  times,  yet  the  architect,  the  church,  and  the  people 
remain  the  same,  and  that  every  Roman  priest  has  the 
power  to  change  ^he  church  and  people  of  his  parish 
into  a  nut  and  eat  thern,  p.nd  yet  multiply  them  every 
day,  so  that  all  the  people  can  swallow  ihemsel/es  and 
their  neighbours  at  any  time  in  every  parish  through- 
out the  world,  whenever  any  priest  pleases  ;  and  thus 
that  every  single  man  or  woman,  or  boy  or  girl  who 
can  crack  the  nut,  can  not  only  devour  himself,  but 
also  all  the  churches  and  congregations  upon  the  earth, 
at  the  same  time ;  and  as  often  as  the  person  chooses 
to  pay  the  pretre  for  producing  this  wonderfal  change, 
and  making  such  a  nut ;  will  you  believe  him,  The- 
rese?'  inquired  the  arch  Marguerite.     As  I  had  not 
the  smallest  idea  in  what  way  the  parable  could  be 
applied,  my  answer  was  very  brief,  •  No  pretre  will 
affirm  such  nonsense.'    Little  did  I  then  imagine 


LORETTE. 


135 


e  church 
are  only 
e  people 
believe 
ask  such 
>e  impo- 
sertion  V 
suppose 
a  chest- 
the  ker- 
pie  had 
el,  many 
ns  past, 
the  nut 
though, 
the  nut, 
)le,  has 
millions 
5  people 
has  the 
5  parish 
n  every 
/es  and 
irough- 
nd  thus 
irl  who 
Jlf,  but 
'  earth, 
hooses 
hange, 
,  The- 
ad  not 
Jld  be 
8  will 
lagine 


f 


that  the  corner  stone  of  their  priestcraft  is  unspeakably 
more  false  and  incredible.  However,  I  am  now  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  Marguerite's  deduction,  that  if 
we  are  bound  to  believe  a  Jesuit  implicitly  in  one 
thing,  merely  on  account  of  his  priestly  office,  then 
we  are  obliged  to  submit  and  to  trust  to  him  in  alt; 
for  it  is  of  no  consequence,  whether  we  bow  down  to 
the  moral  obliquities  which  he  teaches  and  enforces, 
or  to  the  fraud  of  purgatory,  the  blasphemy  of  trans- 
substantiation,  or  the  idolatry  of  the  mass.  In  answer 
to  my  short  sentence,  Marguerite  said,  '  But  if  you 
must  believe  and  perform  all  the  priest's  words,  where 
will  you  stop?  If  his  control  over  your  faiih,  and 
practice,  and  conscience  be  unbounded,  how  can  you 
justly  dispute  his  infallible  authority,  whether  he 
teaches  the  truth  or  error,  sense  or  nonsense)  virtue 
or  vice,  piety  or  irreligion  T  " 

"  One  might  suppose,"  J  remarked, "  that  no  person 
of  common  rationality  would  subscribe  to  these  insult- 
ing opinions,  did  not  our  own  observation,  and,  alas ! 
.our  own  experience,  testify,  that  under  the  influence 
of  vicious  propensities,  the  heart  and  mind  of  man  may 
be  induced  to  receive  any  doctrine,  however  base  and 
preposterous,  if  it  sanctions  the  desiieu  indulgence  of 
the  inordinate  passions."  Therese  added,  "  i  am  con- 
vinced that  this  is  the  only  true  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty. Ignorance  of  all  sublime  truih  n^^urally  en- 
genders the  predominance  of  the  most  grovelling  er- 
ros,  which  become  palatable  by  their  congeniality  with 
the  objects  of  sense ;  and  when  aided  by  the  endless 
variety  of  stratagems,  with  which,  as  you  were  read- 
ing to  me  the  other  day  from  Christ's  words»  a  Jesuit, 
if  it  were  possible,  would  deceive  the  very  elect,  these 
tensual  inclinations  dispose  the  mind  to  remove  aU 
the  grand  moral  distinctions,  and  especially  when 


^ii 


I 


" 


136 


LORETTt. 


gilded  over  by  the  plausible  distinction,  which  exists, 
as  the  Roman  priests  pretend,  between  mortal  and  ve- 
nial sins.  Thus  it  was  with  me*  Marguerite  per- 
ceived that  I  was  dumb,  when  she  asked  me,  *How 
ran  you  difpute  the  priest's  infallible  authority?' 
She  thus  proposed  to  awaken  my  seared  conscience 
by  that  exciting  question.  Instead  of  which  effect,  it 
operated  upon  me  as  an  opiate*  for  as  I  could  not  in- 
stantly say,  in  what  points  I  would  venture  to  resist 
the  claims  of  the  Jesuit  priests,  I  concluded  thi!  n\ 
exception  could  justly  be  made.  Marguerite  cbrjr  " 
my  unwary  mental  acquiescence  with  the  pri.  ;  ipie 
which  she  opposed,  and  resolved  to  impel  the  arrcnv 
of  conviction  as  far  as  she  dared  without  risking  her 
own  safety.  '  V7iil  you  break  any  one  of  the  com- 
mandments in  the  decalogue,'  she  again  inquired,  *  be- 
cause a  priest  tells  you  that  your  disobedience  is  a 
venial  sin?  or  will  you  bear  false  witness,  steal  other 
people's  property,  or  commit  murder,  if  you  can  do  it 
secretly,  becau^se  your  pretre  entices  you  to  do  it,  and 
promises  you  his  absolution]'  Proposed  in  this  fvirm 
the  opinion  which  I  had  avowed  did  not  appear  defen- 
sible, and  yet  I  perceived  no  alternative,  mortal  sin 
must  be  committed,  or  the  priest  must  be  confided  in 
and  obeyed.  However,  I  answered  her,  *  Obedience  to 
our  confessor  is  the  first  law  of  the  church,  and  if  I 
err  by  obeying  the  priest,  he  will  havf  to  bear  the 
punishment !'  Marguerite  replied,  *  Ah  !  my  dear,  if 
one  child  at  school  induces  another  to  act  wrong,  the 
teacher  corrects  both,  and  although  the  tempter  is 
generally  more  corrupt  and  criminal  than  the  tempted, 
yet  the  latter  is  amendble  for  his  own  transgression, 
and  bears  his  own  stripes.'  This  doctrine  was  too 
evidently  true  to  be  evaded  by  any  sophistry.  I  could 
therefore,  only  repel  its  force  by  asserting,  ^  Your  prin- 


\ 


n 


% 


c 

d 


LORETTE* 


137 


h  exists, 
1  and  VG- 
rite  per- 
e,  •How 
ilhority?' 
►nsrience 

effect,  it 
d  iiot  in- 
to resist 

th-j!  n^ 

pri.  ;ipie 
e  arrow 
king  her 
he  corn- 
red,  '  he- 
nce is  a 
?al  other 
an  do  it 
D  it,  and 
lis  firm 
r  defen- 
rtal  sin 
ided  in 
ence  to 
md  if  I 
ear  the 
dear,  if 
ng",  the 
pier  is 
jmpted, 
ession, 
I'as  too 
I  could 
r  pria* 


1 


\ 


^ 


ciple  does  not  apply,  for  it  cannot  be  supposed  that 
the  holy  priests  will  be  permitted  either  themselves  to 
fall,  into  error,  or  to  teach  it  to  others.'     The  melan- 
choly view  which  Marguerite  took  of  my  approaching" 
degradation  emboldened  her  finally  to  ask  me, '  Should 
a  priest  be  inclined  to  violate  his  vows  and  solicit  you 
to  indulge  him,  by  persuading  you  that  the  transgres- 
sion of  the  commandment  of  chastity  is  a  venial  sin, 
which,  he  can  pardon,  what  will  you  do,  Thcrese:  will 
you  consent  to  his  wicked  lawless  desires  1'     I  felt 
embarrassed,  but  was  not  convinced  and  remained  si- 
lent.    *  Do  you  not  know,*  added  Marguerite,  '  that 
these  things  are  continually  done  V     i  answered  her 
not  a  word.     From  your  statement  she  accurately  di- 
vined the  cause  of  my  silence,  for  although  not  then 
actually  a  guilty  participant  of  their  criminal  inter- 
course, yet  I  was  completely  entangled  and  bewitched 
with  their  licentious  revelry.    My  principles  and  feel- 
ings were  thoroughly  poisoned,  and  from  all  that  I  had 
seen,  or  heard,  or  been  taught,  it  appeared  undeniable 
tliat  the  natural  consequence  of  a  girl's  possessing  any 
V  Glaring  qualities,  and  of  attaining  a  certain  age,  was, 
ff.it  she  must  submit  to  the  priest's  wanton  caresses, 
;i-  (i  become  the  solace  of  his  unnatural  and  ruinous 
^^lJt:>!icy."    "  I  have  additional  reasons  to  adore  the 
)  ii'ine  majesty,"  I  remarked,  "  for  his  abundant  good- 
ness in  preserving  me  from  the  pit  in  which  so  many 
others  have  been  entrapped."     Therese  rejoined,  "  It 
was  always  a  mystery  inexplicable  to  us,  by  what 
means  you  had  become  so  thoroughly  armed  against 
the  pretre's  wiles,  for  one  of  the  most  pernicious  evils 
connected  with  monastic  life  is  this,  that  those  who 
ak'^ady  have  been  insnared,  are  made  the  shameless 
tools  to  grapple  fresh  victims.     The  immediate  iepa- 
ration  of  the  mother  from  her  infant,  except  in  very 

12 


* 

»»•, 


ii' 


'i^    ^ 


138 


LORETTE. 


peculiar  cases,  destroys  all  tender  sensibilities,  and 
the  (tallons  effrontery  of  the  nuns,  as  you  have  awfully 
witnessed,^'  here  she  beat  her  bosom  and  wrung  her 
hands,  as  if  in  a  momentary  phrensy,  "renders  them 
peculiarly  qualified  instruments  to  carry  on  the  crafiy 
desiofns  of  the  priests,  in  the  dreadful  work  of  female 
seduction  and  ruin.*' 

Thf^-^e  conversations  directed  me  in  my  efforts  to 
enligi  .1  ^d  impress  my  companion's  conscience.  I 
clearly  \.  c?ived  that  she  was  still  very  defective  in 
reference  to  the  spirituality  of  God's  law  and  the  ma- 
iigniiy  of  sin:  which  I  determined,  therefore,  should 
constitute  my  primary  points.  But  Therese,  although 
a  dull,  was  not  an  unwillinnf  pupil.  All  her  moral 
apprehensions  hud  so  long  been  confounded  and  stu- 
pifi'^d,  that  ii  was  difficult  to  engage  her  mind  to  re- 
ceive any  thing  unless  through  the  medium  of  sense. 
From  her  [  imbibed  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  vast 
labour  which  is  requisite  to  turn  an  old  sinner  from  the 
error  of  her  ways.  She  was  not  an  example  of  pro- 
found ignorance,  but  her  mind  had  always  been  habit- 
uated to  erroneous  conceptions  of  every  thing  con- 
nected with  the  human  character  in  our  relation  with 
GoJ*  Her  whole  life  from  premature  womanhood 
had  been  a  ceaseless  routine  of  a  loathed,  because 
tiresome  and  unmeaning,  ceremonial  of  pretended 
worship,  flagrant  violations  of  the  divine  law,  and  the 
use  of  the  most  pernicious  methods  to  harden  con- 
science and  deaden  all  moral  sensibility.  My  own 
experience,  although  not  impregnated  with  so  many 
morbid  mixtures,  led  me  to  introduce  to  her  attention 
those  parts  of  the  Scripture,  which  avowed  the  autho- 
rity and  sanctity  of  the  divine  government,  and  espe- 
cially those  passages  which  unfolded  in  the  most 
pointed  and  imprciisive  manaer>  the  omaiscience  and 


\ 


\ 


LORETTB* 


ISO 


ties,  and 
J  awfully 
rung  her 
ers  them 
he  crafty 
f  female 

sffbrts  to 
ience.  I 
jctive  in 

the  tna- 
Jf  should 
although 
3r  moral 
nnd  stu- 
nd  to  re* 
)f  sense. 

the  vast 
from  the 
J  of  pro- 
?n  habit- 
ing con- 
ion  with 
nan hood 
because 
•e  tended 
and  the 
len  con- 
Vly  own 
io  many 
ttention 
s  autho- 
id  espe* 
e  most 
Qce  and 


\ 


omnipresence  of  God.     I  bad  found  the  truth  of  the 
adage,  "  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wis- 


and  I  had  ah 


need  that  ih( 


experu 

ingsof  that  fear  are  peculiarly  vivified  by  'he  renipm- 
brance  of  him  to  whom  "  all  things  are  naked  and 
open."  To  ihej^e  spiritual  subjects,  T  herese  was  la- 
mentably insensible.  She  had  never  known  any  ob- 
ject of  worship,  except  through  the  carnal  vi^ible  im- 
ages and  idols  of  her  mummery  ;  and  although,  from 
having  long  derived  no  satisfaction  by  worshipping 
them,  and  from  the  Holy  Spirit  operating  to  unfold 
to  her  the  folly  of  trusting  in  nothings,  which  can 
neither  see,  hear,  feel,  nor  assist,  she  had  discarded 
the  external  objects  of  her  superstitious  rites  ;  yet  her 
mind  had  not  found  the  Great  Supreme,  as  the  sole 
basis  of  confidence ;  as  the  Apostle  Paul  expressed 
her  state,  "  she  had  turned  from  her  idols,  but  not  la 
serve  the  true  and  living  God." 

While  residing  with  you,  my  brother,  I  ascertained 
that  the  only  efTecujal  method  to  dissipate  the  mists 
of  error  in  which  I  had  been  educated,  was  the  endea- 
vour to  obtain  the  rays  of  the  sun  of  righteousness,  by 
a  steadfast  perusal  of  the  sacred  volume.  So  sudden 
and  bright  was  the  refulgence  of  the  gospel,  I  could 
scarcely  believe  that  the  book  which  I  had  procured 
was  genuine.  I  had  to  undergo  a  similar  but  more 
tedious  period  of  partially  doubting  amazement  with 
your  mother.  Therese  could  not  conceive,  if  the 
bible  is  true,  how  the  priests  dared  to  restrain  the 
common  people  from  perusing  its  holy  instructions. 
This  scruple  I  vanquished  by  proving  to  her,  that 
there  is  not  one  doctrine  peculiar  to  p<  pery  which  is 
not  directly  prohibited  in  the  scriptues,  and  that  it  is 
evident,  therefore,  the  priests  forbid  the  study  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament,  lest  their  idolatrous  and  cor- 


y^'i] 


I 


^i  1 


m 


140 


LORETTE. 


rupt  practices  should  be  exposed,  and  iheiiiselves,  wiiH 
their  priestcraft,  be  rejected.  It  was  more  difficult  to 
convince  her,  that  the  pretres  wilfully  distorted  the  sa- 
cred oracles,  thereby  to  enforce  their  treacherous  impo- 
sitions upon  the  souls  of  men.  She  detested  the  Jesuits 
whom  she  had  known  ;  but  it  was  not  so  much  for 
their  dreadful  frauds  and  unholiness,  as  on  account  of 
the  personal  miseries  which  she  endured,  either  from 
her  pa^t  connexion  with  them  or  through  their  direct 
instrumentality.  In  respect  also  to  her  own  indivi- 
dual sins,  she  seemed  more  disposed  to  impute  them 
to  the  instigations  of  the  Roman  priests,  than  to  her 
own  choice,  and  willing  particip.ition.  Thus  her  mind 
was  shielded  in  a  double  delusion  almost  impenetra- 
ble, and  she  realized  not  the  feeling  implied  by  the 
Psalmist,  "  I  acknowledge  my  transgression,  and  my 
sin  is  ever  before  me.  Against  thee  only  have  I  sin- 
ned, and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight." 

Sometimes  I  became  almost  impatient,  when  I  dis- 
cerned how  slowly  her  mind  received  the  plainest  dic- 
tates of  revealed  truth.  Her  objections,  however,  gra- 
dually became  weaker.  I  found  the  words  of  Christ 
very  beneficial  for  my  assistance,  "  search  the  Scrip- 
tures;" and  I  argued,  that  the  Saviour's  authority  was 
paramount  to  that  of  all  inferior  teachers,  and  that  al- 
though I  had  encountered  great  obstacles  to  under- 
stand them,  yet  by  patient  assiduity  and  humble  sin- 
cere prayer,  I  had  found,  that  "whatever  things  were 
written  aforetime  were  written  for  our  learning,  that 
through  comfort  of  the  Scriptures  we  might  have 
hope."  Often  did  I  read  to  her  the  penitential  Psalms, 
and  the  chapters  of  ancient  history  which  record  the 
lamenting  confessions  of  patriarchs  and  prophets; 
especially  those  which  directed  our  meditations  to  the 
degeneracy  of  human  nature,  the  lost  and  ruined  con- 


di 
he 
w< 

CO 

rei 


LOnSTTfi. 


141 


^'es,  with 
fficuli  to 
1  the  sa- 
us  impo- 
J  Jesuits 
luch  for 
count  of 
jer  from 
ir  direct 
indivi- 
te  them 
n  to  her 
er  mind 
jenetra- 
i  by  the 
and  my 
e  I  sin- 

n  I  dis- 
lestdic- 
er,gra- 

Christ 

Scrip- 
ity  was 
that  aU 

under- 
ble  sin- 
^s  were 
igr,  that 
t  have 
^salms, 
3rd  the 
»phets; 

to  the 
■d  con- 


dition of  man  by  sin,  and  the  corruption  of  our  own 
hearts  whence  all  sin  flows.  On  these  occasions,  she 
would  sometimes  stop  me,  and  think.  Although  little 
conversation  then  occurred  between  us,  yet  1  frequently 
reminded  Therese,  that  the  word  of  God  to  be  benefi- 
cial must  be  personally  applied,  and  if  its  doctrines  and 
examples  and  commandments  are  not  thus  enforced 
directly  upon  our  own  consciences,  its  important  in- 
structions will  be  of  no  permanent  advantage. 

There  was  also  a  wandering  inattention  in  Therese 
which  often  disconcerted  me;  but  I  had  counted  the 
cost  of  my  services  and  patience.  I  beheld  a  woman 
emaciated,  enfeebled  by  a  lingering  malady,  wretched, 
agonized  with  most  tormenting  fear,  ens>hrouded  in 
the  deepest  mental  gloom,  and  agitated  by  a  tempest 
of  conflicting  passions.  Although  I  had  received  from 
her  the  utmost  injuries  which  she  possibly  could  in- 
flict, and  although  she  had  dishonoured  every  femi- 
nine characteristic,  and  severed  all  the  endearing 
bonds  of  common  humanity,  yet  she  was  forlorn,  de- 
spised by  the  instigators  of  her  crimes,  and  claimed 
my  compassion.  She  possessed  an  immortal  soul, 
and  it  was  my  duty  to  use  all  appointed  means,  under 
the  Divine  blessing,  for  her  salvation :  and  she  was 
my  mother!  and  she  was  your  mother,  my  dear  Di- 
ganu !  and  her  wicked  ways  had  not  exonerated  me 
from  my  duty  as  her  daughter,  much  less  as  a  Chris- 
tian. These  considerations  animated  me  to  persevere. 
I  could  not  forget  my  own  past  ignorance,  my  former 
danger,  my  marvellous  rescue,  and  my  present  privi- 
leges and  consolations.  Therefore  I  constantly  sup- 
plicated for  wisdom  to  act  aright,  and  for  full  success 
to  my  feeble  exertions.  Knowing  the  danger  of  be- 
wildering her  mind,  and  aware  that  until  Therese  cor- 
fectly  apprehended  something  of  the  Divine  character 

IS* 


I 


A' 
:U1 


^Vi 


f, 


(■ 


I' 


141» 


LORETTB. 


and  attributes,  and  until  she  also  felt  that  his  "  law  is 
holy,  and  his  commandments  holy,  just,  and  good,"  I 
should  be  only  "  as  one  who  beateth  the  air ;"  as  much 
as  possible  I  restricted  myself  to  these  two  subjects. 
Occasionally  I  adverted  to  Marguerite's  evangelical 
understanding  of  the  genuine  effects  of  saving  know- 
ledge upon  the  soul.     I  selected  some  examples  from 
the  sacred  word,  and  also  different  corroborating  testi- 
monies from  the  volumes  which  I  possessed  to  the 
same  effect ;  and  at  length,  to  my  great  delight,  I  dis- 
covered that  her  conscience  began  to  yield  to  the  light 
and  the  truth.     Sometimes  Therese  would  inquire, 
"  How  is  it  possible  that  such  great  coincidences  in  ex- 
perience and  language  can  exist  among  persons  of 
different  ages  and  countries?"     This  fact  naturally 
led  me  to  urge  the  universal  suitability  of  the  bible  to 
the  wants  of  all  mankind,  and  to  argue  that  the  iden- 
tical effect  of  pure  Christianity  in  all  persons,  how- 
ever otherwise  unknown,  was  an  undeniable  proof  of 
its  divine  origin  and  bestowment.     I  also  perceived 
that  she  was  often  affected  with  devotional  expres- 
sions, particularly  if  they  implied  intense  feeling,  and 
aversion  to  mental  disquietude;  and  she  would  fre- 
quently use  David's  figure,  that  "  the  bones  which 
thou  hast  broken  may  rejoice,"     Yet  I  could  discover 
nothing  of  a  direct  tendency  to  that  avowal  of  contri- 
tion accompanied  by  the  exercise  of  faith  and  earnest- 
ness of  prayer,  which  I  so  anxiously  longed  to  wit- 
ness.    When  persons  have  wandered  so  far,  not  only 
from  the  pathway  of  righteousness,  but  also  from  all 
natural  decorum,  and  have  violated  every  powerful 
and  salutary  restraint  of  conscience  which  the  Judge 
of  the  quick  and  the  dead  has  appointed  for  the  order 
and  comfort  of  man ;  if  in  mercy  they  are  awakened  on 
the  verge  of  the  precipicei  whence  they  might  plunge 


LOHETTG* 


UK 


"  law  is 
rood,"  I 
»s  much 
'ubjects. 
ngelical 

know* 
es  from 
»g  testi- 

to  the 
t)  I  dis- 
he  light 
inquire, 
s  in  ex- 
sons  of 
iturally 
bible  to 
e  iden- 
>,  how- 
)roof  of 
rceived 
Bxpres- 
>g,  and 
lid  fre- 

which 
iscover 
contri- 
arnest- 
to  wit- 
►t  only 
om  all 
werful 
Judge 
)  order 
ned  on 
)lunge 


' 


into  the  abyss  of  eternal  wo,  it  seems  to  be  the  appoint- 
ment of  infinite  wisdom  and  love,  that  they  shall  usu- 
ally feel  their  steps  with  caution,  as  they  retrace  their 
course  to  "  the  strong  hold."  One  hope  often  com- 
poscu  my  mind.  Without  any  hesitation,  Theresa 
would  feelingly  confess  that  she  was  among  the  chief 
of  sinners.  I  also  knew  that  much  of  her  criminality 
had  flowed  from  ignorance  and  unbelief,  and  although, 
lest  she  might  be  tempted  to  deceive  herself  with  a 
fallacious  hope,  I  never  adverted  to  this  special  point 
in  the  apostle  Paul's  confession,  yet  from  it  I  was  en- 
couraged to  pray,  that  the  faithful  saying  might  be 
fulfilled  in  her  believing  and  appropriating  accepta- 
tion. 

During  many  weeks  it  would  be  easier  to  describe 
her  state  by  negatives,  than  by  affirmatives.  She  had 
not,  as  I  conceived,  evangelically  repented,  but  her 
conscience  was  entendered.  She  did  not  believe  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  she  totally  rejected  all  other 
dependence  for  salvation.  She  was  not  a  fruitful  ser- 
.vant  of  the  Redeemer;  but  she  no  longer  trampled 
upon  his  rightful  authority.  She  could  not  forge  the 
unsatisfying  vanities  which  she  had  so  long  and  ar- 
dently pursued ;  but  she  had  imbibed  an  utter  repug- 
nance to  all  her  iniquitous  practices.  She  had  not 
received  the  pure  gospel,  partly  from  the  uneasiness 
which  she  felt  in  submitting  to  its  yoke,  but  she  utterly 
disowned  the  merciless  tyranny  of  the  Jesuit  priests. 
She  was  exactly  like  a  traveller  without  a  guide  in  a 
desert,  where  to  stand  still  is  impossible,  but  to  move 
is  to  storm  every  conceivable  danger.  Gradually, 
however,  her  peevishness  was  less  distressing.  Her 
temper  was  amended,  and  her  remarks  upon  religious 
topics  became  more  frequent  and  more  scriptural. 
Whether  this  was  the  result  of  our  seclusion  from  the 


■  s 


fill 


I 


i 


144 


LORETTB. 


world,  or  our  attention  to  the  books  which  I  read  to 
her,  or  to  any  effectual  application  of  divine  truth  to 
her  own  peculiar  state,  1  could  not  decide.  I  hoped 
the  latter,  but  I  rejoiced  wiih  trembling.  She  ap- 
peared to  manifest  less  anxiety  to  know  my  own  per- 
sonal history,  and  the  subject  was  scarcely  ever  ad- 
verted to,  except  to  ascertain  how  I  felt  at  the  differ- 
ent periods  when  she  was  present  with  me ;  thertby 
to  explore  another  trait  in  our  varied  recollections, 
that  she  might  comprehend  all  the  operations  of  Di- 
vine truth  upon  our  minds.  These  cursory  invesii- 
gation^t  being  spontaneous,  gratified  me,  because  they 
indicated  an  inquiring  mind,  and  certified,  that  the 
hours  of  silence  and  of  our  separation  were  not  totally 
unprofitable. 

On  the  last  day  of  December,  after  I  had  read  aloud 
some  of  the  Psalms,  and  a  passage  from  one  of  my 
authors  adapted  to  the  end  of  the  year,  Therese  ad- 
dressed me,  "  I  know  not,  Louise,  how  exactly  to  ac- 
count for  the  fact,  but  I  have  never  known  so  agreea- 
ble a  time  in  my  life,  as  the  weeks  which  have  elapsed 
since  you  came  to  Three  Rivers."  JMy  reply  was,  *'I 
rejoice  if  I  have  been  able  beneficially  to  serve  you, 
and  to  show  you  what  I  might  have  been,  if  other  cir- 
cumstances had  controlled  our  mutual  destinies." 
Therese  answered,  "  That  subject  may  be  discussed 
upon  some  other  occasion,  my  object  now  is  to  remind 
you,  that  to-morrow  we  may  expect  to  see  Rohoirsic, 
and  I  shall  be  pleased  to  tell  him  of  your  great  kind- 
ness to  me."  I  again  remarked,  "  I  have  not  forgot- 
ten, Therese,  that  he  has  never  yet  disappointed  me : 
and  he  knows,  that  no  day  in  the  year  has  been  so 
anxiously  desired  as  the  first.  It  has  been  always, 
since  my  separation  from  Diganu,  a  day  of  comfort  in 
my  own  miDd,  and  of  gratitude  to  God ;  and  although 


r 


LORETTB* 


145 


it 


my  friend  did  not  absolutely  engage  to  see  me  on  any 
particular  day,  but  during  the  holidays,  yet  I  hope 
that  the  morrow  in  a  peculiar  degree  will  be  a  day  of 
peace."  Therese  rejoined,  "  I  do  not,  I  cannot  expect, 
indeed  I  have  no  right  to  look  for  a  day  of  comfort,  or 
tobe  at  peace;  but  1  feel  sincerely  thankful  to  God,  for 
sending  you  to  me,  and  if  I  am  not  stronger  in  health, 
that  I  am  improved  in  knowledge,  and  clearer  in 
principles,  than  at  the  end  of  the  last  year.  My  ex- 
pectations, Louise,  are  very  contracted.  I  cannot 
even  lift  up  my  eyes  unto  heaven.  I  can  only  cry, 
*God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner;'  and  yet  twelve 
months  ago,  I  had  no  knowledge  of  myself,  nor  can  I 
truly  say  that  I  even  desired  thus  to  be  made  rightly 
sensible  of  my  guilt  and  danger,  and  to  obtain  deliver- 
ing grace." 

I  know  not  exactly  how  I  felt  at  these  hopeful  avow- 
als. I  could  only  silently  pray  that  the  Lord  would 
begin  the  good  work,  if  it  was  not  savingly  commenc- 
ed ,  and  if  the  incorruptible  seed  by  the  word  of  God 
•had  been  implanted,  that  he  would  carry  it  on  until 
•the  day  of  Jesus  Christ.  Therese  was  watching  me. 
Whether  my  lips  moved,  I  know  not,  but  she  saw  my 
repressed  emotions  of  satisfaction  and  interest  in  her 
humble  and  artless  acknowledgments.  "  Louis'*  "  she 
said,  with  great  pathos,  "  I  am  not  acquaintv<i  vi'ith 
these  very  important  concerns — you  are.  Pray  for 
me  as  you  do  alone  for  yourself;  and  give  thanks  to 
God,  that  we  may  end  this  year,  seeking  his  mercy, 
and  imploring  an  increase  of  good  for  the  New  Year." 
She  had  never  before  requested  me  to  pray,  nor  did  I 
feel  qualified  to  be  a  devotional  leader  for  another ; 
•but  who  could  resist  such  an  appeal,  at  that  season, 
and  from  our  humbled,  contrite  mother?  From  that 
j)eriod,  your  Louise  ceased  not  to  offer  her  daily  pray- 


t  4 


m 


146 


LORETTE. 


I 


€rs  and  supplications,  making  our  joint  requests  with 
thanksgiving  known  unto  God. 

True  to  his  hour,  on  the  morning  of  the  New  Year, 
Rohoirsic  entered,  and  congratulnied  us  on  our  appa- 
rent conrifort  vith  each  other.     Having  pleased  The- 
rese  at»d  delighted  me  by  assuring  us  of  your  pros- 
perity, he  departed,  accompanied  with  our  blessingr 
and  '•egard,  while  we  mutually  rejoiced,  that  his  inier- 
ventioii^  to  settle  u?  in  the  same  habitation  had  been 
attended  with   such  propitious  efl'ects.     One  of  the 
<:onsequences  of  the  counsellor's  vihit  was  unexpected. 
Speedily  after,  Therese  requested  me  to  recount  the 
manner  of  my  escape  from  the  pretre's  residence     nd 
I  think,  during  our  whole  intercourse,  that  n<        rr 
seemed  to  gratify  her  so  much  respecting  our  temporal 
concerns   as   my    narrative.      **  It   was    uot  to   that 
wretched  woman  Guise's  fears  only,  that  you  owed 
your  safely  in  part,"  Therese   remarked,  "but  also 
to  the  Jesuit's  anxieties.     He  knew  that  it  would  be 
impossible  lorig  to  detain  you  without  a  public  expo- 
sure: his  visit  to  Quebec,  therefore,  was  to  arrange 
a  proper  place  for  your  reception :  but  have  you  no 
suspicion  who  that  priest  really  is?"     My  reply  was, 
*'  No,  I  never  could  form  any  idea  of  the  place  or  his 
name."    I  know  not  which  of  us  developed  the  strong- 
est shivering,  when,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  scarcely 
audible,  and  concealing  her  face  with  her  shawl,  she 
ottered  the  short  but  frightful  sentence,  "  That  priest 
is  the  father  of  Diganu."     This  electric  evolution  of 
a  labyrinth  of  terrific  mysteries  was  indubitably  hurt- 
ful to  my  bodily  energies.     From  that  shock  I  never 
recovered.    However,  it  destroyed  at  once  all  the  prior 
aversion  which  I  had  constantly  experienced  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  our  mother.     Had  her 
strength  admitted  her  to  have  written  her  dreadful 


taj 
asp 

if 
mi 

tb 


LORETTfi. 


147 


tale,  I  should  rather  have  perused  than  heard  it,  but 
as  that  labour  was  not  feasible  on  her  part,  I  resolved, 
if  possible,  to  ascertain  all  that  it  migh^t  be  proper  for 
me  to  know  of  her  past  life,  in  conversation ;  as  I 
judged,  that  however  repulsive  and  awful  might  be 
the  disclosures  which  she  might  make  of  her  sinful 
course,  all  her  other  sins  could  not  possibly  transcend 
in  enormity  the  single  atrocious  wickedness  which 
she  had  thus  avowed.  Therese  saw  the  effect  which 
her  most  unexpected  communication  had  produced. 
With  her  comparatively  blunted  sensibilities,  she  had 
not  nicely  comprehended  how  1  shouid  feel,  but  as  she 
afterward  stated,  the  harrowing  fact  was  disclosed  to 
me,  expressly  that  I  might  be  more  anxious  to  know 
her  biography,  as  well  as  our  own  in  connexion  with 
her's,  and  as  of  unspeakably  higher  importance,  that  I 
might  be  able  to  administer  spiritual  knowledge  to 
her  exactly  adapted  to  her  necessities.  Providen- 
tially, my  brother,  you  were  sent  to  our  assistance.  I 
directed  Rohoirsic  to  transmit  me  some  books,  the 
value  of  which  I  knew  not  except  by  reference.  But 
I  gave  him  a  carte  blanche,  with  my  earnest  prayer 
that  you  might  be  directed  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  send 
me  those  volumes,  which,  with  the  Scriptures,  should 
make  your  mother  wise  unto  salvation.  I  carefully 
studied  every  book  before  I  read  it  to  Therese,  that  I 
might  not  unintentionally  mislead  her.  When  you 
again  examine  those  precious  memorials,  you  will 
perceive  how  attentively  your  Luther,  your  Calvin, 
your  Claude,  and  your  Saurin  have  been  scrutinized; 
and  you  will  rejoice  to  be  assured,  that  their  illumi- 
nation irradiated  and  consoled  the  close  of  our  earthly 
pilgrimage. 

The  hideous  information,  which  had  been  so  con* 
cisely  but  impressively  conveyed  to  me,  produced  no 


148 


LORETTV* 


>• 


derangement  of  our  intercourse  upon  other  subjects ; 
but  for  some  days,  not  a  syllable  of  a  personal  refer- 
ence was  exchanged.  We  talked  of  man  and  his  cor- 
mpiion,  o(  sin  and  its  deformity,  of  the  hardness  of 
the  human  heart,  of  the  infinite  compassions  and  won- 
derful forbearance  of  God,  of  the  preciousness  of  the 
Saviour,  of  the  necessity  of  regeneration,  of  the  con- 
trasts between  an  obdurate  sinner  and  an  evangelical 
Christian,  of  the  value  of  the  soul,  and  of  the  sublime- 
ly unutterable  feelings  connected  with  a  just  view  of 
the  resurrection  morn ; — and  it  is  a  cause  of  gratitude, 
that  we  were  enabled  occasionally  to  forget  ourselves 
in  these  soaring  eiherial  contemplations.  Although 
solicitous  to  hear  more  of  Therese's  waywardness,  so 
far  as  it  concerned  ourselves,  yet  I  almost  shuddered 
a*  the  anticipated  narrative.  She  perceived  my  sud- 
den excitement,  whenever  a  remark  approximated  the 
boundary  between  the  actual  past  of  guilt  and  the  pre- 
sent reality  of  compunc*ion,  and  therefore  sagaciously 
adopted  the  only  mode,  by  which,  probably,  the  repul- 
sive subject  eligibly  could  have  been  resumed.  Some 
circumstance,  originating  in  our  temporary  feelings, 
had  led  our  conversation  to  the  subject  of  human  mor- 
tality, and  its  momentous  consequences.  There  had 
been  an  indistinct  allusion  to  the  possibility  of  a  fu- 
ture personal  recognition  of  each  other  by.  earthly 
associates.  On  this  point,  Therese  had  before  de- 
clared me  a  visionary ;  but  she  then  selected  the  in- 
teresting theme  as  a  key  to  the  elucidation  of  all  the 
secrets  of  our  earthly  existence.  "I  suppofie,  then," 
said  Therese,  "although  you  may  nevei  see  your  bro- 
ther Diganu  any  more  upon  earth,  you  expect  to  meet 
him  again  in  heaven  V  Well  did  she  appreciate  how 
the  recollection  and  mention  of  you  ever  operated  as 
an  unfailing  cordial  to  my  perturbed  spirits.    I  un- 


f 


p£ 


LORETtfi.  * 


U9 


9 


heisitatingfly  replied,  "  Can  I  doubt  it?  Shall  we  pos- 
sess less  discernment,  knouledgfe,  and  Chrisfia-n  affec- 
tion in  the  invisible  world  of  fight  and  perfection,  than 
in  this  gloomy  vale  of  deficiency  and  sin  ?  Is  not 
paradisef  reveajpd  to  us  as  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first  born  who  are  written  in  heaven, 
the  spirits  of  jiist  men  made  perfect  ?  and  I  confidently 
believe  Digttnu  will  be  there;  and  I  hope  with  you, 
Therese,  lo  enjoy  that  sanctified  undying  communion 
of  which  on  earth  we  have  been  deprived." 

"  If  your  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures  be  true,  the 
anticipation  is  probable,"  your  mother  answered  ',  "and 
you  think  that  you  will  meet  him  with  no  other  emo- 
tion than  inconceiveable  testacy."    My  reply  '"^as  this, 
"Assuredly,  the  imperfections  and  the  dross  of  our 
sinful  nature  thence  will  be  excluded  ,'  and  in  the  ele- 
vation of  celestial  t'lanctity,  we  shall  be  conscious  of 
nothing  but   the  most  refined  and  rapturous  bliss." 
My  companion  inquired,  "  You  mean,  I  suppose,  that 
congenial  persons  who  have  always  lived  and  loved 
in  the  reciprocal  interchange  of  the  porified  affections 
and  benevolence  of  Christianity,  may  thus  anticipate 
a  blessed  meeting?"     I  responded,  "  No;  I  think  the 
doctrines  of  Scripture  make  no  exception,    Lazarus 
could  not  personally  have  known  Abraham,  and  yet 
from  our  Lord's  infallible  delineation,  we  mast  sup- 
pose, that  the  disembodied  beggar  realized  the  very 
essence  of  love,  communion,  and  '  n^oyment  with  the 
beatified  patriarch."     Therese  rejoined.    "  Even  ad- 
mitting this  consolatory  truth  in  reference  lo  persons 
who  have  never  known  each  other,  but  who  had  \yalk- 
ed  through  life  quickened  by  the  same  grace  and  in  a 
congenial  spirit,  how  will  it  aflfect  those,  who,  although 
subsequently  penitent  and  converted,  h:  o  had  no  op- 
portunity to  redress  the  wrongs  which  they  had  done, 

13 


IfiO 


LORETTE. 


and  to  make  reparation  to  those  whom  they  had  injur* 
edt**  I  did  not  perceive  the  point  to  which  this  con- 
versation was  naturally  tending.  But  deeming  the 
question  to  be  only  of  a  general  character,  I  observed, 
*'  The  uature  of  our  spiritual  existence,  and  even  of 
our  relations  in  the  New  Jerusalem,  is  beyond  our 
present  apprehensions,  but  all  who  are  admitted  into 
that  state  are  absolutely  divested  of  every  alloy,  and 
consequently  the  evils  of  earth  no  longer  will  be 
sources  of  pain.  I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  by  a 
mysterious  process  now  incomprehensible  to  us,  even 
the  recollection  of  prior  evil  may  be  obliterated  from 
the  memory  of  glorified  saints.  This,  however,  is  not 
an  article  of  faith;  nevertheless,  it  may  be  useful  to 
repder  more  odious  that  corruption  which  is  the 
source  of  all  our  present  anguish,  and  which,  if  not 
removed  by  efficacious  grace,  will  exclude  us  from 
never-ending  felicity."  Therese  remarked,  "Then  I 
presume,  Louise,  that  you  would  feel  no  diminution 
of  the  joys  of  paradise  to  meet  me  there."  I  answered, 
with  manifestly  more  tenderness  and  ardour  than  ever 
your  mother  had  before  witnessed  in  me,  "  Oh,  no !  it 
18  now  my  daily  solace,  that  I  trust  I  shall  be  spared 
to  witness  your  assurance  of  hope,  and  your  peaceful 
removal  to  the  city  of  the  living  God."  This  effusion 
of  my  afTectionate  feelings  was  decisive.  Therese 
was  completely  overcome.  After  a  long  pause  she 
stretched  her  arms,  lifted  her  eves  to  heaven,  and  with 
the  deepest  fervour  and  pathos  cried  out,  "  God  of 
mercy,  fcl^ss  my  Louise!  how  can  I  atone  for  the 
miseries  that  I  have  inflicted  upon  hert  how  can  I 
express  iny  gratitude  to  thee,  for  the  comfort  of  hei 
presence  in  my  solitude  and  affliction?"  She  sunk 
into  a  species  of  revery.  "  Do  you  think  it  possible, 
t^oMiW'  at  length  she  asked, "  U^at  I  3hall  ever  meet 

■■■■-■  o       ■       ■■>■'  ^       :  ^ 

•  r 


LCRETTE. 


151 


you  in  heavieif),  or  that  you  can  forget  what  I  have 
been  to  you  V*  There  was  a  resi8lle^s  melting  of  soul 
in  her  tone  and  manner  which  overpowered  me,  and 
it  was  some  time  before  my  feelings  permitted  me  to 
reply,  "  I  trust  that  we  shall  meet  in  heaven ;  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  then  I  shall  not  remember  any 
of  the  painful  occurrences  to  which  you  alludet" 
With  the  most  impatient  avidity  she  inquired,  "  How 
can  you  make  that  appear?"  I  thus  answered  her 
question.  "Very  easily.  We  have  been  acquainted, 
Therese,  scarcely  six  months  in  this  convent,  and  my 
present  sensations  towards  you  are  as  different  from 
those  which  harrowed  my  bosom,  when  I  read  your 
letter  in  the  garden,  as  the  recoil  from  a  serpent  is  un- 
like to  the  embrace  of  a  friend." 

Your  mother  had  conducted  me  to  the  very  point, 
where  our  conversation  had  imperceptibly  tended. 
After  a  short  pause,  in  which  we  had  been  meditating 
upon  that  change  in  our  mutual  relations,  which  our 
joint  unpremeditated  avowals  ..ad  unfolded,  she  glanc- 
ed at  me  with  expressive  solicitude  and  tenderness,  and 
again  asked,  "Do  you  sincerely  believe  that  you  will 
meet  Diganu  in  the  paradise  of  the  blessed?"  I  re- 
plied, "  All  that  I  once  knew  of  him,  and  all  which 
Kohoirsic  has  since  so  imperfectly  stated,  convince  me 
that  upon  Christian  principles,  such  a  confidence  may 
securely  be  indulged."  Therese  impatiently  inquired, 
"  Then  if  I  should  be  there  as  you  wish,  how  will 
your  brother  meet  me?**  I  instantly  discerned  bow 
adroitly  Therese  had  completed  her  design,  but  it  was 
too  late  to  retract,  and  I  was  obliged  to  narrate  my 
history  from  the  period  of  my  departure  from  Lorette 
until  the  day  of  our  wretched  separation.  The  story 
was  beneficial  to  our  mother.  From  it  she  derived 
encouragement.    In  unfolding  my  pungent  exercises, 


r    1^ 
I    if 


152 


LOfiETTB. 


ll  i 


she  saw  a  reflection  of  her  own  agonized  feelings ; 
and  by  the  slow  advances  which  I  made  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  saving  knowledge,  jhe  was  supported  with 
the  hope  that  her  personal  attainment?  were  not  fruit- 
less ;  while  in  the  confidence,  that  the  incorruptible 
seed  had  been  formed  in  your  heart,  my  dear  Diganu, 
«he  expressed  unfeigned  gratitude  to  the  Friend  of 
sinners.     The   various  subjects  which  flowed   from 

.  this  review  of  my  life  while  I  resided  with  you,  fur- 
nished a  plentiful  source  of  thought  and  investigation. 
Our  subsequent  intercourse,  however,  was  very  irre- 
gular. Frequently  our  dialogues  were  little  more 
^  than  question  and  answer,  or  a  sentence  en  passant,  as 
I  read  the  Scriptures,  or  some  author  whose  remarks 
interested  us.  Only  when  neither  of  us  was  depressed 
by  our  languor  and  nervous  feelings,  did  we  appear 
temporarily  to  forget  ourselves,  our  situation  and  our 
debility. 

*'  Louise,"  said  the  sufferer  one  day,  as  I  was  read- 
ing to  her  Massillon's  sermon,  'sur  les  Elus,'  *'  I  can- 
not comprehend  how  any  persons  can  know  that  they 
shall  be  save«l."  In  reply  I  observed,  "Of  all  our 
mental  exercises,  and  of  all  our  religious  experience, 
the  inquiries  connected  wiih  this  anxiety  are  the  most 
interesting  and  important."  Therese  lemarked,  "So 
I  now  feel,  and  the  eloquent  discourse  which  you  are 
■reading  induces  me  to  interrupt  your  progress,  that  I 
may  understand  by  what  means  you  have  been  ena- 
bled to  speak  so  confidently  upon  that  point.*'  My 
Jinswer  was,  "  I  do  not  know  how  to  explain  this  s'lb- 

.  ject,  unless  I  retrace  my  ovvn  convictions  and  experi- 
-ence."  Your  mother  rejoined,  "  That  is  exactly  my 
meaning.  I  seem  to  apprehend  better  the  nature  of 
truth  when  it  is  embodied  in  the  personal  exercises : 
and  when  you  say,  thus  I  thought,  and  felt,  and  acted, 


•clings ; 
acqijj. 
etl  wiih 
01  fruit- 
rupuble 
Diganu, 
ienci  of 
from 
ou,  fur. 

gation. 
ry  irre- 
'  more 
j^ant,  as 
ernarks 
pressed 
appear 
ind  our 

s  read- 
'  I  car- 
at  they 
ail  our 
rience, 
e  niost 
J,  "  So 
ou  are 
that  I 
n  ena- 
'     My 
s  s'lb- 
xperi- 

y  "»y 
ure  of 

■ises : 

acted, 


Loftfetn* 


168 


it  impresses  my  mind  with  double  force,  becaasc  it 
gives  to  the  illustration  of  doctrine  all  the  weight  of 
credible  testimony.*'  I  subjoined,  *'  Already  1  have 
intimated  to  you,  Therese,  that  eighteen  months,  or 
more,  elapsed  from  the  time  of  Marguerite^s  commu- 
nications until  the  beginning  of  my  residence  with 
Diganu.  The  whole  of  that  period  was  a  time  al- 
most of  darkness.  I  learned  to  detest  the  grosser  ini- 
quity which  passed  before  me ;  but  I  bad  no  oppor- 
tunity or  means  to  acquire  the  evangelical  substitute. 
I  abhorred  the  hypocrisy  and  the  licentiousness  of  the 
Jesuits,  and  their  abandoned  associates  in  crime,  but  I 
knew  nothing  of  Christian  sincerity  and  the  holiness 
of  the  gospel.  All  the  attempts  to  convince  me,  that 
after  death  man  is  no  more,  were  unavailing.  My 
soul  revolted  from  the  idea  of  living  in  sensuality,  and 
then  to  be  annihilated.  A  dawning  of  light  came 
upon  my  mind  respecting  the  reality  of  purgatory, 
and  the  worship  of  saints  and  images;  but  I  do  not 
remember  that  my  doubts  led  to  any  essential  result. 
My  disbelief  of  the  mass  was  more  influential,  for 
Marguerite,  in  the  form  of  two  questions,  had  given 
tne  a  theme  for  constant  examination.  Incidentally 
she  had  mentioned  something  dbout  confession  and 
going  to  mass  at  Easter,  'Do  you  think,*  asked  the 
dying  Christian,  *  that  the  holy  Saviour  \Vould  permit 
himself  to  be  handled  by  the  vilest  sinners  in  the 
world  ?  Can  you  believe  that  such  wretches  as  the 
Jesuit  priests  whom  I  have  described  to  you  are  able 
to  turn  a  morsel  of  dough  into  their  God,  And  then 
swallow  the  Almighty  t'"  Therese  suddenly  inter- 
posed. '*  Well,  indeed  that  is  extraordinary.  In  my 
worst  days,  that  very  notion  sometimes  came  into  my 
mind,  but  it  dhly  hardened  tny  conscience.  It  in- 
duced me  to  est«em  und  even  delijrht  ia  the  opioioD» 


m 


154 


LORKTTfi. 


that  all  the  pictures  of  purgatory  and  the  Jesuits'  ter- 
rific denunciations  about  the  future  hell,  were  only  a 
phantom,  and  that  religion  itself  was  their  own  cun- 
ning  artifice  and  priestcraft.  But  go  on  with  your 
story." 

"  The  influence  of  this  question  was  great  and  per- 
manent," I  continued,  "  because  it  led  me  to  under- 
stand something  of  the  monstrous  absurdities  of  their 
system,  to  which  we  were  required  to  assent  upon 
pain  of  anathema ;  and  which  sentent^e  of  excommu- 
nication, I  have  no  doubt,  often  constitutes  the  excuse 
for  the  secret  murder  of  their  abused  victims,  when 
they  no  longer  delight  the  priests."    Therese,  with  a 
most  expressive  and  melancholy  countenance,  nodded 
her  assent.     Marguerite  paused  for  my  answer.    "I 
must  not  dispute  our  holy  mother  the  church,"  was 
my  reply,  "  you  know  the  priests  teach  us,  that  this 
is  a  deep  mystery  not  to  be  pryed  into  by  the  common 
people,  but  only  to  be  believed  and  adored."    The  old 
woman  rather  pettishly  retorted,  "Nonsense;  if  a  Je- 
suit tells  me  that  he  can  change  the  river  into  a  horse, 
must  I  believe  him?  and  when  to  prove  it,  he  has 
mumbled  over  some  Latin  which  I  neither  hear  nor 
understand,  am  I  to  admit  his  assertion  to  be  true,  al- 
though I  see  the  river  flowinsf  before  my  eyes,  and 
can  drink  its  water  as  usual  ?     Ah !  my  dear,  they 
deceive  you,  and  unless  you  take  care,  you  will  find 
that  wicked  infidels  who  talk  and  perform  such  blas- 
phemy concerning  God,  with  more  impudence,  will 
avow  and  practise  their  beastly  principles   respect- 
ing  women."     Therese    hastily    remarked,    "Mar- 
guerite well  understood  the  subject.     Her  inference 
was  correct.     Persons  who  can  be  seduced  to  profess, 
OS  their  belief,  x\>nt  a  shameless  Roman  priest  can 
make  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  us  to  eat,'  caa  be 


♦s** 


LORETTC. 


165 


uits'  ler- 
'e  only  a 
[wn  cun- 
ilh  your 

and  per- 
>  nnder- 

of  their 
nt  upoa 
comma- 

excuse 
s,  when 

with  a 

nodded 
er.     "  I 

ii"  was 
)at  this 
ommon 
rhe  old 
if  a  Je- 
horc^e, 
lie  has 
?ar  nor 
'ue,  al- 
s,  and 
,  they 
ill  find 
1  b'as- 
B,  will 
spect- 
'  Mar- 
Ten  ce 
•ofess, 
$1  can 
m  be 


taught  to  affirm  every  absurdity  and  corruption.  As 
a  natural  consequence,  when  we  are  assured  that  the 
Jesuit  holds  our  destiny  in  his  hands,  to  insure  his 
favour,  we  submit  to  all  that  he  wishes  and  orders. 
This  I  wofully  know  to  be  true,  but  what  was  the  re- 
sult in  your  own  meditations?"  To  this  questio  i  I 
replied,  "I  was  in  continual  perplexity,  not  so  much 
from  the  doctrinal  contradiction  which  she  adduced, 
as  from  its  application  :  but  I  could  never  afterwards 
separate  the  ideas  which  she  thus  had  combined.  I 
was  aJisuredly  convinced,  that  it  demanded  less  ef- 
frontery to  sedu'^e  a  thoughtless  frirl.ihan  to  propound 
as  the  fundamental  article  of  religious  faith,  a  blas- 
phemously utter  impossibility.  The  scenes  which  I 
had  witnessed,  the  opinions  which  I  heard,  the  at- 
tempts to  corrupt  my  own  principles,  my  aversion  to 
the  hypocritical  course  of  life  continually  around  me, 
the  contrasts  between  demureness  and  levity,  profes- 
sion and  practice,  guilt  and  absolution,  and  the  recol- 
lection of  Marguerite's  picture  of  conventual  life,  all 
convinced  me  of  her  veracity,  and  1  tacitly  admitted 
that  the  priest's  system  and  doings  are  equally  detest- 
able ;  but  I  had  no  truth  and  no  sanctity  as  an  equiva- 
lent. Long  before  we  went  to  Jacques  Cartier,  1  had 
secretly  rejected  the  adoration  of  iiijages  and  the  in- 
vocation of  saints,  e.xcept  when  i  was  obliged  to  join 
with  others  in  the  cerenmnial ;  but  then  was  an  in- 
fidel, for  I  "'.sed  no  other  worship.  My  situation, 
however,  may  be  biieHy  desclbe*!  as  a  state  oi  desire. 
I  perceived  the  gro.>s  darl'"  ess  and  danger  of  my  pre- 
vious condition,  and  I  longed  for  light  and  deliverance. 
That  I  had  gone  astray  as  a  lost  sheep,  I  clearly  as- 
certained, hut  how  to  discover  the  right  path  I  knew 
not;  nevertheless,  it  was  my  constant  solicitude.  With- 
oiit  exactly  compreheudiu^  my  object,  doubtless,  I  of- 


156 


LORETtfik 


ten  silently  prayed  for  Tig:ht  instruction ;  and  I  dis* 
tinctly  recollect,  that  I  realized  a  restless  anxiety  to 
read  that  bible,  of  which   Marguerite   had   spoken. 
Thus  the  time  passed,  if  I  did  not  understand  truth 
and  goodness,  that  I  might  love  and  enjoy  them ;  I 
very  clearly  discerned  that  which  was  grossly  erro- 
neous and  evil,  and  the  curse  of  them,  I  determined 
resolutely  to  avoid."    Your  mother  remarked,  "In 
many  points,  I  can  understsnd  these  exercises.   Some 
of  these  feelings  which  you  have  specified  have  been 
my  own,  only  combined  with  other  sensations,  which 
you  happily  can  never  know.     I  cannot  say  that  I 
have  possessed  the  great  desire  of  v  hich  you  speak, 
neither  had  I  some  time  since  the  faintest  glimp?e  of 
the  true  light,  but  I  perceived  that  all  which  1  had  be- 
lieved to  be  true  was  false,  and  that  my  whole  life  was 
an  odious  tissue  of  atrocious  criminality.     Ah  !  what 
firesof  misery  did  the  review  enkindle  in  my  bosom," 
and  laying  her  hand  on  her  heart  with  most  affecting 
emotion,  "they  are  not  yet  extinguished;  but  thanks 
be  to  God !  these  were  not  intertwined  wiih  yovr  other 
sufferings.     You  had  not  the  gnawing  worm  of  sleep- 
less remorse  to  add  horror  to  your  gloom,  and  an  ago- 
nized  conscience   thundering  wo  and   despair  both 
asleep  and  awake,"  and  clasping  her  hands,  after  a 
long  pause,  amid  convulsive  shuddering,  she  faintly 
articulated,"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  !'* 

**  Ah,  Theresel"  I  answered,  every  heart  knoweth 
its  own  bitterness.  I  cannot  unfold  to  you  what  I  felt, 
what  for  a  long  time  I  realised,  and  what  even  now 
frequently  agitates  me,  when  I  recur  to  that  eventful 
night,  ill  which  Diganu  and  Chretien  so  providentially 
discovered  me.  Often  am  I  almost  petrified  at  the 
thought  of  my  then  hopeless  situation.  But  God  has 
been  very  gracious  to  me*    Yet  wb«n  I  reflect,  that  I 


lORETTE. 


157 


nd  I  dis. 
nxiety  to 
spoken, 
nd  truth 
ihem ;  I 
sly  erro- 
efmiried 

ed,  "In 
i»  Some 
ve  been 
5,  which 
i  that  I 
*  speak, 
imp?e  of 
had  be- 
life  was 
I !  what 
)osom/' 
iffecting 
thanks 
tr  other 
f  sleep- 
an  ago- 
ir  both 
after  a 
faintly 


i» 


noweth 
1 1  felt, 
jn  row 
iventful 
sntially 
at  th« 
>od  has 
I  that  I 


i 


was  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  eternal  world,  an 
unthinking  and  impenitent  sinner.    More  !  O !  who 
can  bear  the  awful  thought^  probably  chargeable  wiih  a 
mad  jump  from  the  icy  rock  at  Lorette  into  the  abyss 
of  everlasting  fire.     I  also  have  passed  through  hours 
of  anguish,  and  shed  tears  of  sorrow,  for  which  all  that 
earth  calls  good  ami  great,  as  a  compensation,  would 
be  less  than  nothing  and  vanity."     Therese  observed, 
**  I  have  always  acquitted  you  of  any  impropriety  and 
guilt  on  that  occasion,  for  I  thought  you  said  that  you 
were  not  conscious,  and  had  no  recollection  of  any 
thing  which  succeeded  after  you  stood  in  the  front  of 
the  church,  until  you  found  yourself  among  the  Indian 
women  ]'*    I  replied,  "That  is  the  very  point  in  which 
I  am  so  wonderfully  indebted  to  the  goodness  of  God. 
Could  I  be  convinced,  that,  in  the  full  possession  of 
my  senses  as  a  rational,  accountable  creature,  I  had 
{itterapted  the  leap  from  that  memorable  rock,  I  should 
never  know  abiding  peace.     But  as  your  own  expe- 
rience has  told  you,  nothing  is  more  dihicult  than  for 
persons  to  draw  the  precise  line  of  distinction  between 
the  sudden  paroxysms  of  an  irresponsibl>*  delirium,  and 
that  effervescence  which  is  both  the  cause  and  tiie 
effect  of  guilt.     To  illustrate  exactly  my  meaning,  I 
will  appeal  to  yourself,  Therese,  does  your  conscience 
acquit  you  of  all  guilt,  because  in  many  of  those  acts 
which  you  most  lament  and  abhor,  you  were  inveiglvd 
by  the  sophistry  and  enticements  of  the  Jesuit  pre- 
tresl"     She  instantly  replied,  "  Oh,  no  !  I  UmX  that  I 
was  basely  criminal."     I  then   propounded  the  ques- 
tion, "  But  you  would  not  voluntarily  have  engaged  in 
those  shocking  acts  ]"     In  answer,  Therese  observed, 
'*  Assuredly  not.     Vitiated  as  were  my  sentiments,  the 
sins  which  I  conmiitted  most  probably  would  have  been 
avoided  had  I  been  surrounded  with  associates  of  dif- 


\x^         V< 


i.ti,   Jill,'     >r** 


» »Ht»i'  ^>~\^ 


11  1  ipiL  nnv^«^v> 


158 


LOR£TT£« 


ferent  principles,  character,  and  habits/*     I  rejoined 
"  Then  you  at  once  perceive  the  difficulty  of  my  dis- 
tinguishing between  that  which  was  voluntary  and  cri- 
minal, and  that  which  was  the  consequence  of  physical 
and  moral  incapacity.     It  was  my  grand  defect  on  that 
occasion  that  I  did  not  offer  my  broken  incoiierent 
prayer  to  God.     I  had  no  correct  idea  of  the  blessed 
JSttviour,  as  our  refuge  and  strength  in  distress,  the 
hearer  of  prayer,  our  deliverer,  a  house  of  defence, 
and  a  very  present  help  in  trouble ;  but  he  pitied  my 
ignorance,  and,  according  to  his  promise,  answered  be- 
fore I  called.     Notwithstanding  my  inability  to  define 
all  the  demerit  attached  to  thij  crisis  of  my  life,  yet  it 
has  been  an  unfailing  source  of  humility  and  gratitude, 
and  as  I  became  more  spiritually  enlightened,  tiiat 
wondrous  interposition  of  his  merciful  providence  en- 
kindled and  has  cherished  a  hope,  which,  by  his  Spi- 
rit's aid,  has  hitherto  defied  all  tlie  calamity  and  hard- 
.  ships  that  since  have  been  my  portion.     But  let  me 
ask  you  another  question,  Therese.     When  you  were 
I  living  without  God  in  the  world,  can  you  assert,  that 
during  that  long  revolution  of  years,  you  were  alto- 
j  gether  unconscious  of  the  true  character  of  your  ac- 
;  tionsr 

**  Unconscious !"  she  remarked,  after  a  pause,  **  No, 
indeed,  full  well  did  I  know ;  alas  !  greedily  did  I  eat 
^  the  forbidden  fruit,  or  why  should  I  now  be  tortured 
I  with  the  retrospect  ?"     To  this  acknowledgment  I  an- 
^  swered,  "  This  then  is  the  argument  for  genuine  con- 
,  trition.     Of  the  evils  of  which  we  are  undeniably  guil- 
ty, there  can  be  no  hesitation  respecting  the  duty  of 
[  penitence,  but  as  we  are  so  prone  to  deceive  ourselves, 
even  in  reference  to  those  of  which  the  guilt  is  not  so 
perceptible,  probably  the  Judge  of  all  decides  against 
us,  and  consequently  the  only  mode  is  to  cast  ourselves 


atl 


inl 


ai 


LORCm. 


160 


y  of  my  dis. 
fary  and  cri. 
^  ?f  pJ'ysica) 
efect  on  that 
incoiiereiit 
the  blessed 
'istress,  the 
of  defence, 
■  pitied  my 
swered  be. 

y  to  define 
life,  yet  it 

gratitude, 
-ned,  that 
'dence  en. 
y  his  Spi. 
and  hard- 
ut  Jet  me 
you  were 
»sert,  that 
''ere  alto- 
your  ac- 

Jp,  *'  No, 
did  I  eat 
tortured 
nt  I  an- 
ine  con- 
>ly  guil- 
duty  of 
rselves, 
!  not  so 
against 
rselves 


at  the  footstool  of  mercy,  before  the  throne  of  grace, 
praying  that  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  we  may 
be  delivered  from  the  body  of  this  death."  Thcrese 
inquired,  **  How  long  did  you  continue  in  that  hesitat- 
ing:, or  rather  beclouded  state  of  mind  in  which  you 
left  the  pretre?"  My  reply  to  this  question  gratified 
your  mother.  **  I  perceived  immediately  after  my 
arrival  at  Diganu^s  house,  that  he  and  Chretien,  like 
their  associates,  were  thoughtless  and  indifferent  to  all 
good,  but  that  they  indulged  no  flagrantly  sinful  ha- 
bits. There  is  an  attractive  naivete  about  Digauu ; 
and  I  became  deeply  interested  in  him.  My  apart- 
ment was  amply  provided  with  idolatrous  trash,  which 
I  speedily  removed,  and  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  provide  myself  a  bible.  That  treasure  1  obtained 
through  the  medium  of  an  American  prisoner  or  refu- 
gee who  visited  us,  and  with  whom  Chretien  was  in- 
timate, and  who  piously  exulted,  as  he  said,  in  my 
escape  from  the  captivity  of  the  devil.  He  marked  a 
number  of  passages  which  he  requested  me  first  to  read 
and  study,  and  gave  me  also  a  book  of  prayers,  and 
thus  reminded  me  of  Marguerite*s  admonition  to  pray 
for  wisdom  that  I  might  comprehend  the  Scriptures. 
The  light  soon  beamed  upon  my  mind.  God,  who  is 
rich  in  mercy,  knew  the  burdens  which  I  should  hav« 
to  bear,  and  therefore  kindly  provided  me  with  all  the 
strength  necessary  for  my  task.  He  blessed  the  peru- 
sal of  his  own  book  to  my  soul ;  and  having  cast  off 
m\'  idols,  I  submitted  myself  entirely  to  his  disposal. 
Srill  I  was  a  mere  child  in  Christian  knowledge.  I 
had  no  helper  or  assistant,  and  my  chief  acquisition 
was  fortitude  in  discarding  my  former  errors,  and  in 
adhering  to  evangelical  truth,  as  it  might  be  revealed 
to  my  understanding."  Therese  remarked,  "  Yet  it 
appears  to  me,  that  you  must  have  attained  much  ac* 


rwww 


mvnuvnw*^ 


LORETTC. 


II 

\f   I 


qunintancr  with  the  Scriptures,  to  have  rendered  yo« 
so  bold  ill  defttiiding  your  opinions  to  Dignnu  und 
Chretien."  In  answer  I  observed,  "  That  was  only 
afier  tiieir  discovery  ot'  my  principles.  Often  did  we 
converse  upon  tlie  subject  of  their  worship  and  pro- 
fessed  belief',  and  as  tliey  advanced  the  commonplace 
nonsense  in  tiieir  own  support,  I  was  obliged  to  detei  ! 
my  novel  opinions ;  and  I  thanlv  God,  that  he  so  en- 
ablcd  me  to  justitv  mvself,  that  Diijanu  became  a  sin- 
cere  disciph^  before  we  were  separated,  and  Clireticn 
was  so  well  disposed  that  the  closing  scene  at  Lovette 
opened  his  eyes.  1  was  more  than  a  match  for  them 
at  disputation,  because  I  was  assi>ted  by  the  word  «f 
trutii ;  but  in  reference  to  t lie  experimental  application 
of  the  divine  oracles,  I  knew  very  little." 

**That  is  the  point,'*  subjoined  Tbcrese, "  from  which 
we  have  diverged.     I  want  to   understand  how  tiie 
truth  becomes  so  clear  and  powerful  in  the  mind,  tbat 
>ve  can  be  assured  of  our  future  happiness  T'  I  replied 
thus,  **  I  suppose  you  will  admit,  when  the  Saviour 
said  to  the  woman  in  Simon's  house,  *  thv  sins  are  for- 
given  thee,  tiiy  faith  hath  saved  thee,  go  in  peace  ;'  that 
she  knew  to  all  certainty  that  she  was  accepted  of 
God,  and  interested  in  bis  favour  ?"     Tiierese  nodded 
her  assent.     **  Cut  how  did  she  become  assured  of  it  ?'' 
I  asked.  **  Because  the  Saviour  allirmed  it,"  answered 
Therese.    I  next  inquired,  *'  But  was  it  for  her  virtues, 
her  merits,  her  excuses,  or  her  knowledge,  that  she 
was  received  and  absolved  T"     Therese  said,  **  No,  it 
was  of  Goti's  mercy,  I  suppose,  for  she  could  not  pay 
the  debt.     She  cast  hers«  If  in  humble  reliance  upon 
his  goodness,  believed  in  his  power,  and  loved  hm\  for 
Ids  favour  bestowed  upon  her.     But  how  does  this  af- 
fect the  question  of  our  knowledge,  when  Jesus  Christ 
is  not  here  personally  to  speak  to  us?"    I  replied, 


I 


'4 


LOKETTl::. 


IGl 


ntTored  yoa 
f>iganu  und 
I  was  only 
Aen  did  we 
'P  and  pro. 
nimonphice 
J  to  dt'foi  I 
lie  so  (>n. 
«»«o  a  sill- 
d  Clireticn 
at  LoKotte 
lj  Tor  the  in 
<^  word  of 
pplicatioii 

rom  which 

liow  the 

iJud,  th.'it 

I  rt'jdirj 

Saviour 

are  for- 

e ;'  that 

'l>fod  of 

iioddod 

of  it  ?" 

s  we  red 
virtues, 
»at  she 
'  No,  it 
]ot  pay 
upon 
J  ill  J  for 
his  af- 
Christ 
'plied, 


I) 


**  The  Scriptures  are  given  us  as  a  rule  by  which  to  try 
our  spiritual  condition.  Ail  tho  doctrines  which  wo 
read  must  be  received  as  if  (Jod  himself  })rocIaimed 
them,  as  he  did  tlic;  law  from  Mount  Sinai.  All  his 
commandments  must  be  acknowh«dt;ed,  as  if  they  were 
enforced  upon  us  by  miracles.  All  his  threatenings 
must  be  credited  as  much  as  if  we  were  witnessing 
tiieir  actual  fulfdment  in  the  case  of  Pharaoh.  And 
all  his  promises  should  be  accepted  and  applied  by 
faith  equally  as  thout^li  they  were  directly  addressed  to 
us ;  provided  only,  that  we  can  humbly  hope  the  cha- 
racteristics of  his  disciples  are  descriptive  ol  ourselves." 
Therese  again  asi<cd,  '*  Hut  may  we  not  be  deceived 
in  our  estimate  of  our  own  state  before  God'?"  I  an- 
swered, *'  Certainly,  but  (lod  hatii  promised  to  guide 
those  into  all  truth,  who  patiently  wait  for  his  instruc- 
tions and  confide  in  his  word  ;  and  as  his  blessed  reve- 
lation is  given  expressly  to  enlighten  our  darkness,  we 
may  confidently  hope,  that  he  will  not  withdraw  its 
shinings."  Tiierese  rejoined,  '*  I  do  not  perceive  how 
this  excludes  the  diliiculty.  Many  cannot  read  the 
word,  and  consequently  will  have  to  lose  its  benefits  in 
illustrating  tlieir  true  situation  before  God."  In  reply 
I  remarked,  "  For  this  very  purpose,  the  ministers  of 
the  gospel  were  appointed  to  teach  the  people  the  way 
of  righteousness  botli  in  word  and  doctrine,  that  they 
may  be  able  to  grow  in  grace."  Your  mother  answer- 
ed, '*  So  then  it  seems  after  all  that  we  must  have  re- 
course to  the  priest,  and  believe  all  that  he  utters." 
My  rejoinder  was  this,  **  Exactly  the  contrary.  The 
priest's  lips  should  keep  knowledge,  and  the  people 
should  search  the  Scriptures.  If  the  bible  were  open 
to  every  man's  inspection,  then  it  is  plain  that  the 
priosts  could  not  propagate  their  wonderful  and  soal- 

14 


rn^^Bwyw" 


162 


LORBlTE. 


■■1 


'"i 


destroying  delusions ;  and  every  person  would  learn  to 
peruse  the  contents  of  the  gospel  for  himself.    But  now 
the  priests  prohibit  the  people  from  all  knowledge  both 
in  the  means  and  end  ;  and  thus  in  cunning  craftiness, 
lie  in  wait  to  deceive.     Besides,  I  would  ask  you, 
Therese,  whether  it  is  not  much  more  probable,  that 
another  person  who  can  only  judge  by  the  outward 
appearance  will  be  deceived  in  deciding  our  true  cha- 
racters, rather  than  a  sincere  believer  who  knows  the 
plague  of  his  own  heart,  and  who  closely  examines 
himself  by  the  word  of  God  1    And  also  is  it  not  much 
more  likely,  that  he  will  be  deluded  in  estimating  his 
own  character  who  trusts  to  the  opinion  of  a  Jesuit, 
whose  declaration  will  be  given  according  to  the  money 
which  he  expects  to  receive,  rather  than  he  who  ap- 
proaches unto  God  with  all  sincerity,  uttering  David's 
impressive  prayer,  *  search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my 
heart,  try  me  and  know  my  thoughts,  and  see  if  there 
be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way 
everlasting  1' "  Therese  answered,  **  I  suppose,  there- 
fore, from  what  you  have  said,  that  the  assurance  of 
which  you  speak  is  obtained  only  from  a  comparison 
of  our  hearts  and  characters  with  the  word  of  God ; 
and  according  as  that  determines  we  are  to  believe." 
Upon  this  remark  I  observed,  "Undoubtedly,  because 
the  gospel  assures  us,  that  by  it  we  at  last  shall  be 
judged.     If  the  Scripture  had  said,  that  God  would 
pronounce  our  final  sentence  according  to  the  will  of  a 
Jesuit  priest,  there  would  be  e,  clear  rule  of  duty  im- 
plied, to  secure  his  favour  at  eny  sacrifice ;  but  so  far 
from  it,  the  Judge  of  all  authoritatively  pronounces, 
that  every  person  shall  give  an  account  of  himself  unto 
God,  and  be  judged  according  to  that  he  hath  done  in 
the  body,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad,  without  any  refer- 
ence to  the  reproach  or  approbation  of  mankind^* 


I 


LORETI^ 


]69 


**  But  as  we  are  sinners,*'  Therese  objected,  "  and  we 
shall  be  judged  according  to  our  doings,  I  do  not  yet 
comprehend  how  we  shall  escape  condign  punishment, 
and  therefore  I  cannot  admit  that  there  is  any  sure 
foundation  for  that  strong  confidence  of  which  you 
speak.   Indeed,  it  appears  to  me  to  partake  very  much 
of  the  same  presumption  that  in  the  pretres  we  con- 
demn."    I  thus  replied,  "  The  cases  are  totally  diffe- 
rent.    In  trusting  for  everlasting  life  upon  the  plain  di- 
rect testimony  of  the  word  of  God,  we  only  receive 
the  consolation  which  the  Scriptures  were  intended  to 
bestow  upon  the   humble,   broken-hearted  penitent: 
but  in  listening  to  a  priest's  absolution,  we  rob  God  of 
his  divine  prerogative  to  pardon  sins :  and  though  the 
Scriptures  plainly  declare  the  will  of  the  1j   iveuly  Ma- 
jesty, yet  we  believe  a  sinful  pretre  when  he  asserts  a 
direct  contradiction  to  the  truth  of  Jehovah."     The- 
rese impatiently  said,   "  Now  I  begin  to  discern,  it 
never  struck  me  so  clearly  before,  that  a  priest's  pre- 
tended claim  to  absolve  from  sm  is  an  insult  to  the  Di- 
vine Being,  and  a  power  which  in  its  very  nature  can 
only  belong  to  the  Searcher  of  Hearts ;  but  this  has 
not  yet  relieved  my  mind  in  reference  to  the  bad  do- 
ings of  mankind.     Knowing  himself  to  be  guilty  before 
God  of  innumerable  sins,  how  can  he  say,  yet  I  am 
saved  ?"    I  rejoined,  "  You  alrendy  have  admitted  the 
fact  in  reference  to  the  woman  in  Simon's  house,  when 
the  Lord  audibly  spoke  to  her.     The  principle  and  the 
result  are  the  same,  although  the  medium  differo.'' 
Therese  earnestly  interposed,  **  Explain  yourself."    I 
continued,  "The  gospel  proclaims  to  every  labouring, 
heavy  laden   sinner,  that   if  he  will  approach  unto 
Christ,  the  Saviour  will  receive  him  and  give  him  rest. 
Now  this  presupposes  a  consciousness  of  the  burden 
of  guilt ;  an  earnest  desire  of  delivi  ranee  from  it ;  un- 


164 


LORETTE. 


feigned  sorrow  for  the  cause  of  the  weighty  load ;  and 
hope  with  confidence  in  the  willingness  and  ahility  of 
the  Saviour  to  give  peace  to  our  souls."     Therese  re- 
marked, "  Still  I  do  not  comprehend  the  application 
of  this  certainty  to  the  understanding  and  the   con- 
science."    To  this  observation,  I  replied  thus,  "  The 
work  of  Divine  mercy  in  the  heari  of  man  is  through 
faith  as  the  instrument.     Every  thing  made  known  in 
the  Scripture  is  a  subject  of  pure  belief.     Its  former 
histories,  its  prophecies  yet  to  be  fulfilled,  its  sublime 
and  unearthly  doctrines,  its  purely  spiritual  requisitions, 
its  awful  denunciations  in  reference  to  eternity,  and  its 
consolatory  promises  of  glory  everlasting  are  none  of 
them  objects  of  sense  ;  so  that  without  faith,  the  bible 
and  its  treasures  are  to  us  a   nonentity."     Therese 
hastily  interrupted  me,  "  Now  I  see.     You  have  open- 
ed the  way  for  me  to  escape  from  all  my  anxieties  up- 
on this  topic;  but  go  on  !"     I  continued,  *'  It  is  plain 
therefore,  that  all  the  portions  of  Divine  truth  rest 
upon  similar  authority,  and  that  the  basis  of  our  trust 
is  the  same.     The  Christian  assuredly  believes,  that 
the  Saviour  died  and  rose  aj^ain,  upon  the  general 
truth  of  Divine  revelation  as  affirmed  by  the  most  pow- 
erful testimony :  but  does  not  the  sacred  book  by  the 
same  apostolic  writer  also  declare   in  the  connected 
sentence,  *  Jesus  our  Lord  was  delivered  for  our  of- 
fences, and  was  raised  again  for  our  justification.'  Now 
if  we  deny  the  latter,  how  can  we  believe  the  other  ] 
For  Paul  joins  them  together,  thereby  to  declare  both 
the  cause  and  theeifect  of  the  Lord's  death  and  resur- 
rection."    Therese  asked,  "Are  not  these  expressions 
general  and  only  intended  to  convey  the  meaning,  that 
the  Saviour  died  to  expiate  sin,  and  to  bestow  righ- 
teousness, without  any  particular  design."    My  answer 
was  prompt,  **  Certainly  not,  for  the  benefits  of  the 


! 


lorettg. 


166 


J;  and 
lity  of 
>se  re- 
catiou 
coii- 

The 
irough 

^n  in 
ormer 
bliine 
tions, 
nid  its 
Hie  of 
bible 
lerese 
open- 
's up- 
plain 
rest 
trust 
that 


gospel  are  all  purely  personal.     This  you  will  per- 
ceive, if  you  remember  that  the  figurative  expressions 
which  are  used   concerning  religion   imply  our  own 
wants  and  the  supply  of  them.     The  consolations  of 
redeeming  mercy  are  called  the  bread  of  life,  the  wa- 
ter of  life,  the  pearl  of  great  price,  medicine,  raiment, 
healing,  pardon,  communion,  and  friendship.  These  are 
all  personal  acquisitions,  and  presuppose  a  direct  par- 
ticipation, or  these  blessings  would  be  useless.  When, 
therefore,  pure  religion  and  undefiled  is  revealed  as 
justification,  adoption,  wisdom,  and  an  inheritance, 
all  these  terms  necessarily  purport  that  they  are  indi- 
vidual attainments  and  possessions.     The  great  privi- 
lege and  attraction  of  Christianity  are  this,  that  it  is  a 
matter  of  personal  concern  to  all  its  disciples." 

Therese  rejoined,  **  I  suppose  then,  you  mean  that 
we  are  not  only  to  believe  that  all  the  advantages  of 
the  gospel  are  designed  by  God  to  be  generally  dis- 
tributed, but  that  every  person  may  claim  and  obtain 
the  supply  of  mercy  according  to  his  own  necessities  1" 
I  answered,  "Exactly;  and  it  is  upon  this  very  princi- 
ple of  appropriation,  that  the  humble  and  sincere  be- 
liever assuredly  confides."  Your  mother  then  inquired, 
"  Do  you  think,  Louise,  that  this  confidence  may  not 
be  fallacious  1"     My  reply  was  this,  **  We  may  be  de- 
ceived, Therese,  but  the  cause  of  the  delusion  will  be 
in  ourselves.     We  cannot  have  complied  with  the  rules 
in  that  case  to  ascertain  a  correct  decision."    Therese 
said,  "  That  is  the  very  idea  which  I  wish  you  to  illus- 
trate, because  I  th3ak  I  shall  have  more  satisfaction, 
if  I  can  correctly  understand  this  important  matter." 
I  subjoined  to  my  former  remarks,  **  I  have  already 
stated  that  the  whole  word  of  God  is  to  be  equally 
credited  as  of  one  authority.     Hence,  the  duties  must 
be  performed,  as  well  as  the  doctrines  and  promises 

14* 


16a 


LORETTE. 


\  ! 


t| 


I 


I 


ib 


I 


believed."    I  paused,  and  Therese  signified  her  appro- 
bation of  the  sentiment.     I  then  proceeded,  '*  Conse- 
quently, the  inquiry  must  be  entered  upon  according 
to  the  prescriptions  of  the  sacred  volume.     The  bible 
proclaims  pardon  to  the  guilty  penitent  sinner  as  an 
infallible  truth,  therefore  the  sole  questions  are,  have 
I  experienced  that  godly  sorrow  which  needs  not  to  be 
repented  of?     Do  I  unfeignedly  credit  what  the  Al- 
mighty saith "?    Have  I  received  the  heavenly  message 
of  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ  ?     And  the  true  answer  is  to 
be  known  only  by  the  fruits  :  hatred  of  sin,  a  hearty 
surrender  to  tlie  Lord's  service,  and  a  steadfast  deter- 
mination to  believe  and  to  do  what  God  shall  require 
of  us,  to  abstain  from  all  evil,  and  to  follow  on  to  know 
the  Lord,  that  I  may  live  to  his  glory  here,  and  dwell 
in  his  pre-sence  forever.    Now,  do  you  not  think,  The- 
rese, that  a  person  with  an  honest  anxiety  not  to  be  mis- 
taken, might  attain  to  a  conviction  that  these  were  his 
governing  dispositions'?"  Therese  answered,  *'  I  should 
believe  so  were  it  not  for  the  corruption  and  deceitful- 
ness  of  the  human  heart."     1  therefore   asked  her, 
"  But  do  you  not  recollect,  that  God  has  promised, 
*  my  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,*  that  he  will  shine  into 
the  hearts  of  his  people  by  his  grace ;  that  light  is 
sown  for  the  righteous ;  and  that  they  shall  not  eflec- 
tually  be  led  astray  1     The  language  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament often  expresses  the  utmost  certainty,  '  T  know 
in  whom  I  have  believed ;  we   know  that  we  have 
passed  from  death  unto  life ;  and  we  know  that  his 
testimony  is  true,  that  believing  we  might  have  life 
through  his  name  ;'  wiih  a  rich  variety  of  similar  pas- 
sages, all  encouraging  the  humble  disciple  of  the  Re- 
deemer, to  cultivate  and  enjoy  the  full  assurance  of 
faith  and  hope."  Therese  replied,  "  I  now  very  plainly 
perceive,  that  religion  is  more  a  personal  thing  of  the 


thi 
tbl 


-%- 


LORETtfi. 


167 


heart,  than  I  had  ever  yet  understood  it.  I  have  only 
therefore  to  request,  Louise,  that  you  will  pray  for  me, 
that  I  may  receive  this  promised  light  and  comfort." 

Our  intercourse  was  partially  suspended  for  some 
days,  while  Therese's  attention  was  engrossed  by  the 
searching  application  of  Divine  truth  to  her  conscience. 
I  rejoiced  .  understand,  that  she  was  deeply  solicitous 
not  to  decide  incorrectly  respecting  her  eternal  wel- 
fare. There  was  such  a  vast  abyss  of  degeneracy  both 
in  theory  and  practice  to  be  exterminated,  that  she 
often  expressed  a  doubt  concerning  the  willingness  of 
the  Saviour  to  ransom  her,  and  I  was  pleased  to  hear 
her  remark,  "  I  have  one  fearful  subject  to  embarrass 
me,  Louise,  whether  all  my  compunction  and  hatred 
of  sin  may  not  be  the  consequence  only  of  my  bodily 
sufferings,  and  the  dread  of  judgment  and  future  pun- 
ishment." I  replied,  "  Are  you  sincere  in  your  pre- 
sent exercises  and  desires  ?"  After  a  pause,  she  an- 
swered, "  I  think  I  am  :  I  have  endeavoured  to  bring 
my  conscience,  with  all  its  truth  and  energy,  to  bear 
upon  my  former  hateful  principles  and  conduct,  and  I 
humbly  hope,  that  I  can  truly  say,  I  long  to  be  filled 
with  Christian  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity."  To 
this  declaration,  I  replied,  "  If  the  Lord  should  restore 
you  to  health,  could  you,  would  you  enter  again  upon 
the  same  course  of  life,  supposing  that  you  should  be 
without  restriction  r*  Therese  shuddered,  and  with 
all  the  strength  which  she  could  assume,  she  said, 
"  Never,  no  never ;  I  prefer  death  even  now,  with  all 
its  perplexing  uncertainties."  I  subjoined,  "  Then 
your  character  must  be  changed."  She  instantly  add- 
ed, "  That  is  certain ;  but  the  important  query  fol- 
lows, is  it  the  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus  1  I  shall 
never  be  pacified,  until  I  can  ascertain  satisfactorily, 
that  the  old  things  are  passed  away.** 


n.*  '  t 


168 


LORETTG. 


On  a  subsequent  occasion,  I  communicated  to  The- 
rese,  the  memorable  points  of  my  experience  during 
my  stay  in  the  convent,  part  of  which  she  knew :  for 
although  I  was  unconscious  of  the  fact,  she  had  resided 
in  the  same  nunnery.   The  narrative  was  beneficial  to 
her,  as  it  illustrated  the  operation  of  Divine  truth  upon 
my  mind,  and  proved  that  neither  the  solitude,  priva- 
tions, hardships,  nor  burdens  of  my  almost  defenceless 
bondage  could  destroy  the  effects  of  that  peace-speak- 
ing voice,  which  sustained  me  with  its  consolation,  as 
it  reiterated,  *  Fear  thou  not,  I  am  with  thee;  be  not 
dismayed,  I  am  thy  God;  I  will  strengthen  thee,  I  will 
help  thee ;  yea,  I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand 
of  my  righteousness.*     In  one  of  my  most  distressing, 
and  dangerous,  and  frightful  dilemmas,  who  can  de- 
scribe the  effect  produced  upon  my  feelings  by  the 
Holy  Ghost's  kind  application  of  those  words  to  my 
heart,  *  I,  even  I,  am  he  that  comforteth  you.     Who 
art  thou,  that  thou  shouldst  be  afraid  of  a  man  that 
shall  die,  and  of  the  son  of  man  who  shall  be  made  as 
grass ;  and  forgettest  the  Lord  thy  Maker ;  and  hast 
feared  continually  every  day  because  of  the  fury  of  the 
oppressor,  as  if  he  were  ready  to  destroy,  and  where  is 
the  fury  of  the  oppressor  V 

The  protracted  seclusion  in  ou'*  apartments  during 
the  long  winter  was  unfavourable  to  us,  and  our  con- 
sequent debility  was  evident  even  to  ourselves.  It 
was  the  natural  result  of  the  inactivity  and  tedium  in- 
separable from  the  convent.  The  most  pernicious 
effect  was  the  additional  nervous  derangement  which 
we  both  felt,  and  which  nothing  but  air  and  exercise  in 
the  garden  had  truly  mitigated.  On  one  occasion, 
when  our  minds  were  more  than  ordinarily  affected  by 
our  peculiar  situation,  I  read  to  Therese  the  Scripture 
respecting  the  world  to  come.    I  had  announced  the 


ex 

fo 
an 
th 
se 
th 
th 


>  »Hi!if  »i»fS'IIWWIB!^'l«l»-W'*«'J» 


LORETTE. 


169 


exhilarating  truth,  "  Our  light  affliction  which  is  but 
for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory,  while  we  look  not  at  the 
things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not 
seen ;  for  the  things  which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but 
the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal ;  for  we  know 
that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dis- 
solved, we  have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made 
whh  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens.'     She  interrupted 
my  progress.    "  These  subjects  have  strangely  affected 
my  mind  lately,"  remarked  Therese,  **  I  feel  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  I  used  to  do  when  thinking  of  death 
and  futurity."     I  anxiously  inquired,  "  How  is  the  al- 
teration perceptible  f*     Therese  replied,  "  I  cannot 
accurately  describe  it,  but  I  do  not  experience   the 
same  terror  at  the  contemplation  of  leaving  the  world 
as  formerly."     I  earnestly  requested,  "  Describe  this 
change  to  me."     Therese  answered,  "  My  feelings  as- 
sure me  that  I  am  rapidly  declining ;  cannot  you  per- 
ceive it?"     My  own  convictions  of  increasing  weak- 
ness only  enabled  me  to  reply,  **  Not  much  ;  and  I  sup- 
pose the  reasons  are,  that  I  am  always  with  you,  and 
myself  gradually   becoming  more  feeble."     Therese 
continued,  "  My  apprehensions  have  induced  me  to 
examine  myself  by  the  Scriptures  ;  and  like  Manasseh, 
I  iiave  often  prayed,  that  I  might  '  know  that  the  Lord 
he  is  God ;'  and  like  the  dying  thief,  I  have  cried, 
*  Lord,  remember  me  !*  "     She  paused,  '*  You  fill  me 
with  comfort,"  I  said,  *'  at  this  blessed  experience  of 
Divine  mercy  ;  and  have  you  then  tasted  that  the  Lord 
is  gracious?"     Our  mother  replied,  "I  cannot  say 
exactly  how  I  feel,  but  my  spirits  are  lightened  and 
my  dreadfully  distressing  fears  are  removed.     I  see  in 
the  Divine  dealings  toward  me,  abounding  mercy.     I 
retrace  my  evil  thoughts,  words  and  actions,  and  I  abo- 


I 


170 


LORETTfi* 


minate  them :  but  I  am  not  troubled  as  formerly  with 
the  sting  of  them,  and  I  trust  that  the  Lord  has  for. 
given  the  iniquity  of  my  sin."     I  was  too  affected 
to  speak.     Therese  saw  my  emotion,  **  What  do  I  not 
owe  to  you,  Louise,"  she  subjoined,  '*as  the  instru- 
ment in  God's  hands  to  convert  a  si  ner  from  the  error 
of  her  way ;  and  I  hope  you  have  saved  a  soul  from 
death  t     I  cannot  speak  with  your  composure  and  cer- 
tainty, but  I  can  say  with  sincerity,  *  Lord,  what  wait 
I  for,  my  hope  is  in  thee  V  "     She  paused  as  if  waiting 
to  hear  me.     I  could  not  command  energy  to  utter  a 
word.    At  length,  she  added,  "  I  think  I  can  tell  some- 
thing of  your  s:ladness,  when  you  can  feel  that  you  are 
so  repaid  by  God  for  your  mother's  unnatural  barbari- 
ty."    This  reference  changed  my  feelings,  and  in  bro- 
ken sentences,  1  replied,  "  Say  nothing  upon  that  sub- 
ject.    So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  forgave  it  from  our 
first  interview  here.     Diganu  will  forget  it,  when  he 
hears  my  tale.     God,  I  trust,  has  compassionated  you, 
and  subdued  your  iniquities,  and  cast   all  your  sins 
into  the  deptlis  of  the  sea.     Let  us  not  therefore  raise 
up  what  God  has  buried.     If  I  have  been  of  any  ser- 
vice to  you,  bless  God  for  his  wonderful  loving  kind- 
ness, who  makes  all  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  him." 

That  evening,  for  the  first  time,  Therese  prayed 
aloud,  and  until  she  was  finally  disabled,  our  joint  de- 
votions were  alternately  assumed  by  us.  It  was  an 
encouraging  thought,  that  a  woman  so  degenerate 
should  be  elevated  by  the  gospel ;  that  a  dreaded  per- 
secutor should  be  transformed  into  a  Christian  disciple ; 
that  a  loathsome  tempter  should  be  changed  into  an 
endeared  friend  ;  and  that  the  relation  of  mother  and 
daughter  should  be  recognised  by  us.  It  was  the  tri- 
umph of  good  over  evil,  of  light  over  darkness,  and  of 


loi 
aci 

Je^ 

WJ 

hi{ 

wil 

he| 

sic 

tu(| 

ofi 

ar 

pe 


LORcrre* 


171 


love  over  aversion,  which  Christianity  alone  can 
achieve.  From  that  period  she  evidently  grew  in 
grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.  But  she  had  no  lofty  soarings,  her  mind 
was  fastened  to  the  anchor  of  hope,  but  she  made  no 
higher  attainment.  She  never  spake  of  herself  but 
with  profound  humility.  Of  her  past  life  she  avowed 
her  disgust ;  of  her  actual  experience,  her  apprehen- 
sions were  only  without  alarm  and  terrifying  disquie- 
tude ;  but  of  the  future,  it  was  merely  the  resolution 
of  Job,  *  though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him  ;' 
and  of  Esther,  *  I  will  go  in  unto  the  king,  and  if  I 
perish,  I  perish.' " 

That  day,  my  dear  Diganu,  on  which  we  had  finally 
been  separated  at  Lorette,  was  always  to  me  a  period 
of  peculiar  solemnity,  meditation  and  prayer.  As  I  be- 
came more  familiar  with  Therese,  I  resolved  to  remind 
her  of  the  tenth  return  of  the  season,  and  if  possible, 
mutually  to  be  edified  by  the  remembrance.  Her  an- 
ticipation was  not  less  acute  than  my  own,  and  she 
had  resolved  to  surprise  mc.  It  was  a  lovely  morning, 
and  our  spirits  were  in  unison  with  the  cheerfulness  of 
Spring.  In  her  prayer,  she  impressively  noticed  it. 
With  all  solicitude  she  invoked  pardon  for  the  evil  do- 
ings of  that  day  and  for  the  Jesuit  criminal  instigator  ; 
and  for  you  and  your  Louise  her  supplications  were 
large  and  fervent.  These  were  mingled  with  thanks- 
givings for  Divine  mercy  in  her  latter  experience,  and 
an  unreserved  surrender  of  herself  to  the  Lord's  will, 
also  imploring  that  she  might  be  able  to  read  her  name 
in  the  book  of  life,  and  be  prepared  to  meet  her  God. 
As  she  had  thus  adverted  to  the  subject,  I  made  no  re- 
mark. In  the  afternoon,  Therese  proposed  a  walk  in 
the  garden.  It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  been 
out  of  the  house  during  nearly  five  months*    Every 


172 


LORETTB. 


thing  on  that  occasion  seemed  changed.     Theresa's 
kindness,  the  conviction  of  her  maternal  relationship, 
and  of  her  Christian  character,  and  the  consolations 
of  redeeming  mercy,  of  which  we  both  iioped  that  we 
participated,  cheered  our  minds,  and  we  were  invigo- 
rated by  our  little  exercise.     On  our  return  into  lier 
room  our  mother  remarked,  *'  I  have  one  duty  yet  to 
perform  to  you,  Louise,  for  the  sake  of  Diganu,  and  as 
I  feel  benefited  by  our  little  walk,  as  the  time  is  con- 
genial, and  as  the  future  is  so  very  mutable  and  uncer- 
tain, I  have  been  revolving  the  propriety  of  communi- 
cating to  you  some  of  the  history  of  my  life  this  even- 
ing.    I  think  I  am  more  capable  of  doing  it  now,  than 
at  any  previous  time,  since  we  have  resided  together. 
My  daughter,  my  child,"  it  was  the  first  time  she  had 
ever  used  the  words,  and  as  she  kissed  me,  she  added, 
"  are  yon  willing  to  hear  it  ?"    I  could  only  return  her 
salutation  and  reply  ;  the  endearing  epithet  had  never 
before  escaped  me,  **  I  had  thought,  mother !"  O  Di- 
ganu, that  you  had  been  with  us !  "  to  have  surprised 
you  by  a  reference  to  this  day ;  but  from  your  morn- 
ing's prayer  I  discovered  that  you  also  recollect  the 
eventful  season."     Therese  answered,  "  Ah!  it  is  im- 
possible, Louise,  to  conceive  what  pungency  of  an- 
guish I  have  suffered  for  the  guilt  of  this  never  to  be 
forgotten  day ;  and  it  is  the  remarkable  change  that  I 
now  feel,  which  induced  me  to  make  the  proposition." 
Upon  that  remark,  1  observed,  "  I  have  longed  for 
your  recital  and  dreaded  it,  with  very  conflicting  emo- 
tions ;  now,  I  am  anxious  to  know  the  events  of  your 
earthly  pilgrimage." 


mo| 
due 
coll 


LOHETTB. 


173 


HISTORY  OF  THERESE. 

Yet  save  a  trembling  sinner,  Lord  ! 
Whose  hope  still  hovering  round  thy  word, 
Would  light  on  some  sweet  promise  there, 
Some  sure  support  against  despair. 

Therese  thus  narrated  her  biography. — "  Father  or 
mother  I  never  knew,  nor  am  1  pware  of  any  indivi- 
duaPs  peculiar  kindness  toward  me.  My  earliest  re- 
collections are  concerning  an  elderly  woman  who  sta- 
ted to  me  this  circumstance.  *  I  was  frequently  em- 
ployed about  the  Ursuline  nunnery  of  Quebec,  in  me- 
nial offices,'  said  Josephine,  *  and  on  one  occasion  a 
child,  which  appeared  to  be  about  four  days  old  was 
deposited  in  the  usual  box  at  the  entrance  I  desired 
to  adopt  it,  to  which  the  nuns  consented,  and  you, 
Therese,  are  my  nursling.  That  name  was  pinned 
to  your  bosom.  This  is  all  that  I  know  of  your  origin.' 
That  woman  I  always  addressed  by  the  title  of  mother. 
Her  appearance  was  repulsive.  She  was  short  and 
meagre,  with  a  peculiarly  disagreeable  countenance ; 
but  she  was  always  very  affectionate  and  kind  to  me, 
and  I  have  often  regretted  that  I  was  taken  from  her. 
I  went  to  the  school  and  made  some  progress  in  learn- 
ing. The  nuns  would  have  me  to  reside  with  them, 
and  Josephine  was  obliged  to  consent.  I  well  remem- 
ber her  charging  me  never  to  become  a  nun.  At  the 
convent  I  often  saw  her,  and  was  permitted  to  visit  her 
at  her  own  room.  She  always  repeated  her  injunction, 
that  when  I  became  my  own  mistress,  I  ought  not  to 
live  in  a  nunnery.  I  still  have  a  very  distinct  impres- 
sion of  attending  her  when  sick.  Not  long  before  her 
death,  she  communicated  the  manner  in  which  I  had 
come  under  her  care;  iijformed  me  that  I  was  fourteen 

15 


It 


'^ 


Ill    IWI^BU 


174 


LORETTE. 


.1' 


years  of  age  ;  that  I  had  no  earthly  relative  whom  she 
could  ascertain ;  and  repeated  her  strict  command, 
that  I  should  lelive  the  convent  as  soon  as  I  could.  I 
was  present  at  the  funeral  of  my  only  benefactress. 

A  strict  guard  was  kept  over  me,  no  doubt  by  the 
contrivance  of  the  nun  who  was  my  mother,  and  who 
resided  in  the  convent ;  but  which  of  them  had  borne 
me  I  never  could  suspect,  because  that  fact  I  only  as- 
certained, in  consequence  of  Diganu's  threatened  judi- 
cial investigation.     However,  I  soon  perceived,  that 
they  designed  to  entangle  me  to  take  the  vow.    My 
mind  was  resolutely  opposed  to  the  measure,  for  my 
dispositions  were  totally  uncongenial  with  the  manners 
of  the  convent ;  and  1  secretly  determined  to  resist 
every  scheme  to  force  my  assent.    My  aversion  doubt- 
less was  discovered,  either  by  their   unaccountable 
craftiness,  or  more  probably  by  some  of  my  acknow- 
ledgments at  confession.     I  was  therefore  placed  in 
Montreal  about  a  year  after  the  death  of  Josephine. 
There  I  first  attracted  the  notice  of  Diganu^s  father. 
Between  the  presbytere  and  the  nunneries,  was  an  un- 
derground communication,  and  thus  the  selected  girls 
were  made  eye  witnesses  of  the  familiarities  between 
the  Jesuit  priests  and  the  nuns,  until  they  were  duly 
trained  to  join  the  vile  association. 
.   Having  been  initiated  into  their  customs  at  Mon- 
treal, r  was  transferred  to  Three  Rivers,  by  the  direc- 
tion of  the  prie.st  who  had  chosen  me  for  his  prey. 
There  a  similar  passage  existed  between  the  Jesuit 
monastery  and  the  convent:  and  every  artifice  was 
enacted  to  corrupt  my  principles.     The  object  was 
not  attained,  but  it  was  doubtless  perceived  that  I  had 
been  infected  by  the  contagion ;  and  I  was  then  re- 
moved to  the  general  hospital  of  Quebec.     That  insti- 
tution had  obtained  a  highly  dishouourable  character, 


■•Vi 


LORETTl!. 


176 


My 


even  among  those  \i'ho  knew  nothing  of  Christian  mo- 
rals. The  religieuses  mixed  with  promiscuous  society, 
and  openly  formed  tender  attachments.  The  Jesuits 
consequently  were  in  a  fury.  The  priests  disliked 
that  the  military  officers  and  others  should  intrude  into 
their  domain  ;  and  they  dreaded  that  the  nuns  should 
divulge  to  their  paramours  the  secret  proceedings  of 
the  Jesuits  in  the  convents.  It  is  most  prohahle,  from 
notorious  facts,  that  some  of  the  nuns  did  publish  those 
circumstances  which  afterwards  disgraced  that  pesti- 
lential order.  Exterior  decorum  among  the  nuns  was 
eventually  coerced  by  the  government,  but  the  interior 
continued  to  be  a  scene  of  flagrant  depravity.  There 
I  drank  of  the  intoxicating  cup ;  and  the  familiarities  of 
the  priest  who  often  visited  me,  although  gilded  over 
by  the  name  of  fatherly  tenderness  to  a  spiritual  child 
whom  he  had  long  watched,  aided  his  design,  and  when 
he  deemed  proper,  I  was  appointed  to  reside  at  Point 
aux  Trembles.  That  was  the  period  of  my  intercourse 
with  Marguerite.  The  Jesuit  often  talked  with  me 
respecting  my  future  vie  /s,  pretended  to  illustrate  my 
childish  opinions,  discovered  all  my  contemptible  su- 
perstitious folly,  encouraged  all  the  notions  which  I 
had  imbibed  of  priestly  infallibility,  showed  the  impor- 
tance of  an  unreserved  exposure  of  all  my  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  desires  to  him,  with  pretended  modest 
gravity  propounded  the  most  obscene  and  revolting 
questions,  and  under  the  pretence  of  cautioning  me 
against  sin,  taught  me  the  most  loathsome  sensuality, 
and  unfolded  the  very  inmost  recesses  of  all  ungodli- 
ness, until  having  moulded  me  in  unprincipled  views 
and  feelings  to  his  design,  he  completed  it  in  the  con- 
fessional. I  was  then  totally  in  his  power,  and  was 
removed  to  his  parish,  where  Diganu  was  born.  He 
was  taken  from  me  almost  immediately,  and  I  saw 


176 


I.ORETTE. 


him  no  more  until  he  was  sent  to  be  instructed  with 
Chretien  at  Quebec. 

The  priest  left  his  parish  for  several  w«eks,  and 
during  his  absence,  another  Jesuit  said  mass  for  him. 
You,  Louise,  are  his  daughter.  Thus  deb'^sed,  and 
by  the  instructions  of  those  two  priests,  lost  to  all  cor- 
recc  female  sensibility  and  moral  decorum,  I  became 
exactly  what  they  wished.  Afterward  they  forced  me, 
under  the  pretext  of  secrecy,  to  take  the  veil ;  and  the 
years  revolved  amid  my  increasing  love  and  practice 
of  iniquity.  I  possessed  not  the  smallest  particle  of 
regard  for  you,  for  it  was  in  consequence  of  your  birth, 
that  I  had  been  coerced  to  adopt  the  monastic  life. 
Diganu  I  cared  for,  because  he  was  a  child  in  some 
degree  of  affection ;  but  for  your  father,  I  never  felt 
the  least  attachment,  or  respect ;  and  my  comfort  was 
in  danger  from  the  two  Jesuits.  I  thought  that  they 
never  would  be  pacified,  until  they  had  murdered  both 
of  you.  It  was  finally  agreed,  that  Diganu  should  be 
under  your  father's  inspection,  and  that  yoa  should  be 
controlled,  by  the  other  priest.  All  your  sufferings  have 
bean  the  result  of  this  mischievous  compact.  I  always 
wished  to  befriend  your  brother,  and  his  father  con- 
sented, provided  tliat  he  might  have  the  sway  over 
you.  Had  I  known  the  feelings  of  a  woman,  much 
more  the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  1  should  have  op- 
posed that  monster  of  iniquit}^  but  all  within  me  was 
blunted  or  perverted,  and  I  realized  no  more  concern 
at  sacrificing  my  child  than  any  other  girl,  or  rather,  I 
was  taught  that  Diganu's  prosperity  depended  upon  it, 
and  the  base  agreement  was  made."  Louise  here 
asked,  "  Was  my  father  privy  to  this  exiraordinary 
design  ?"  Therese  answered,  **  No,  he  never  saw  you 
after  you  were  removed  from  me,  when  a  few  days  old, 
until  he  recognised  the  cross  in  the  church  at  Lorette. 


thi 
sul 


LORETTE. 


177 


Indeed,  he  never  displayed  the  smallest  concern  about 
you.  He  complied  with  his  engagement  respecting 
Diganu,  merely  as  a  matter  of  honour  between  priests, 
but  he  was  not  in  the  least  interested  in  your  or  my 
welfare. 

After  you  approached  to  maturity,  the  plan  was  laid 
for  your  entanglement.  I  was  apprized  that  you  ma- 
nifested a  rather  intractable  and  modest  temper,  and 
that  you  would  not  easily  be  enticed  by  any  artifices  to 
submit  to  the  course  delineated  for  you.  The  plot 
therefore  was  contrived  gradually  to  entrap  you  into 
his  snare.  I  was  also  told,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
attract  your  notice  to  the  usual  occurrences  of  the  con- 
vent. By  my  base  advice,  you  were  sent  to  Point  aux 
Trembles,  but  it  was  a  providential  journey,  because 
there  you  saw  Marguerite,  and  God  in  mercy  permit- 
ted you,  through  her  instrumentality,  to  acquire  that 
knowledge  and  inflexibility  which  enabled  you  to 
overcome  all  the  priest's  machinations."  Here  I  in- 
terrupted Tl  erese  by  remarking,  "  I  cannot  conceive, 
Therese,  how  you  could  posfibly  have  engaged 
in  that  most  iniquitous  project.  There  is  something 
so  unnatural  and  so  atrocious,  that  I  am  amazed  when 
the  Jesuit  )  ropounded  that  wickedness  to  you,  your 
feelings  as  a  woman  did  not  revolt  from  the  proposal 
to  prostitute  your  virgin  daughter  to  the  father  of  your 
son  1"  She  displayed  unutterable  omotion  as  she  re- 
plied, "  Ah  !  Louise,  you  understand  not  the  wicked- 
ness of  Jesuit  seminaries  and  convent*.  By  their  re- 
gulations, all  earthly  relationships  terminate  when  the 
boy  receives  the  tonsure,  or  the  girl  takes  the  veil. 
Father  and  mother,  brother  and  sister,  son  and  daugh- 
ter to  them  are  unmeaning  appellatives,  and  all  man- 
kind are  equally  alienated.  Hence,  parricide  and  in- 
cest, in  their  judgment,  are  crimes  which  they  cannot 

15* 


i 


178 


LORETTE. 


I 
ill 


commit.  A  pretre  and  a  religieuse  are  equally  desti- 
tute of  all  natural  sensibility.  Most  of  them,  like  my- 
self, have  never  felt  domestic  affection.  They  are  the 
offspring  of  profligacy ;  and  by  their  unknown  licen- 
tious parents,  abandoned  in  infancy  to  the  care  of 
others,  and  only  watched  that  they  may  be  nurtured  to 
think  and  feel  and  act  like  the  priests  and  nrjns  from 
whom  they  derived  their  existence.  What  iovt  can  a 
woman  have  for  a  child  who  is  taken  from  her  proba- 
bly without  her  handling,  or  even  beholding  it ;  whom 
she  never  nursed,  and  whose  sex  she  is  not  permitted 
to  know ;  and  in  multitudes  of  instances  whether  al- 
lowed to  live  or  suflbci  ted  at  its  birth,  she  can  never 
ascertain  ?  What  affection  can  a  priest  have  for  a 
child,  if  the  relationship  were  ascertained,  who  must  b-; 
his  disgrace  and  ruin  1  It  is  certain  that  the  Josuiu 
not  only  kill  tlieir  children  to  hide  their  corruption, 
but  also  the  mothers  of  their  oflspring,  ratlier  than  their 
pretended  celibacy  shall  be  discredited.  What  civil 
law  can  punish  a  priest  and  nun  thus  guilty  1  They 
purloir  and  destroy  every  bibie  with  impunity.  Tiioy 
rob  their  poor  disciples  under  every  possible  pretext. 
They  teach,  disseminate  and  practice  all  kinds  of  the 
vilest  immorality;  and  who  resists  them?" 

*'  I  have  often  thougiit  to  ask  you,  Therese,"  I  re- 
marked, '*  what  account  can  be  given  of  all  the  infants 
who  are  left  in  the  cradles  at  the  nunneries  ?  I  have 
frequently  regret tc.,  that  Marguerite  did  not  assist  me 
with  her  knowledge  on  this  subject."  Therese  replied, 
"  That  is  a  very  mysterious  concern.  How  that  busi- 
ness is  managed,  I  never  could  exactly  discover.  The 
number  of  children  thus  cast  off  by  their  unnatural 
parents  is  astonishing ;  yet  no  inquiry  is  ever  made 
for  them,  after  they  have  been  placed  in  a  convent. 
That  affair  can  only  be  understood  by  the  nun  in  at- 


(( 


A 


Ilk 


■  tmuawtim^rfr 


LORETTE. 


179 


tendance,  and  the  superieure  and  the  chaplain.  I  was 
never  intrusted  with  the  ofTice  of  door-keeper.  All  I 
know  is,  that  many  more  are  deposited  tiian  ever  go 
out,  hut  how  tho  account  is  balanced,  it  is  hoyond  my 
ingenuity  to  unravel.'*  J  replied,  "  During  my  abode 
in  one  of  the  convents,  I  am  convinced,  that  a  hundred 
children  were  stated  to  have  heen  left  within  tiio  year 
to  the  care  of  the  roligieuscs,  although  I  n(?voi  saw  one 
of  them."  Thereso  answered,  '*  It  is  now  a  v.onder 
tc  me,  but  then  I  thought  nothing  of  it.  The  shock- 
ing subject  only  constituted  matter  for  a  joke  among 
the  nuns  ;  yet  with  all  their  impudence,  the  pretres 
would  never  intrust  us  with  the  knovvhjdge  of  our  chil- 
dren's fate;  and  had  it  not  been  divulged  in  conse- 
quence of  your  birth,  I  should  have  remained  totally 
ignorant  of  Diganu."  I  inquired,  "  Do  describe  to 
me  th(;  cliaracter  of  those  two  priests  as  you  now  judge 
them  1  Are  they  living  ]"  Our  mother  answered, 
"  Your  fatlier,  Louise,"  her  co  jntcnance,  of  v.'hich  she 
was  jjrobably  not  conscious,  bespoke  strong  aversion, 
*'  was  a  cold-liearted,  selfish  villain,,  and  an  adept  in 
all  wickedness.  He  regularly  inumbled  over  his 
masses,  exacted  his  various  fees  and  claims,  indulged 
his  unholy  a[)[)etitcs  as  he  pleased,  and  possessed  not 
the  smallest  attachment  to  any  thing  in  creation,  ex- 
cept the  craft  by  which  he  had  his  gain.  As  he  lived 
unbc'loved,  so  he  died  two  years  af^o  unlamented."  I 
hastily  observed,  "  Dead  !  do  you  say  ]  d(uid  in  his 
sins  '?"  Therese  continued,  "  He  passed  through  all 
the  forms  and  cercunanies  was  absolved,  anointed, 
chanted  over,  eulogized  in  the  funeral  oration,  praised 
in  the  newspaper,  has  a  fine  epitaph  inscribed  on  his 
tombstone,  and  a  monument  in  the  church,  and  is  gone 
to  his  fathers,  just  as  they  preceded  him,  and  as  the 
surviving  ungodly  priests  are  successively  following 


1 

I 

!■■■ 


H 


M 


1*1 
♦  1 


180 


LORETTE. 


him."  I  briefly  inquired,  "And  Diganii's  father^'* 
"  He  is  alive,"  said  your  mother,  *'  a  shrewd,  artful, 
and  complete  Jesuit,  with  all  the  principles  of  a  re- 
morseless, impenitent  sinner ;  and  with  a  deceitfulness 
which  no  ingenuity  can  explore  or  circumvent.  His 
progress  has  constantly  been  onward  to  condemnation. 
The  only  thing  which  has  any  appearance  of  good  that 
he  ever  performed  has  been  his  support  of  Diganu ; 
but  that  was  merely  vo  gratify  his  stronger  passion.  * 
His  private  history  would  unfold  a  wondrous  tale.  I 
have  not  seen  him  during  the  last  two  years.  When 
I  began  to  realize  debility,  I  was  deserted,  and  as  my 
eyes  were  opened  to  perceive  the  evil  of  their  doings, 
I  loathed  tlie  very  sight  of  all  the  pretres.  This  tem- 
per produced  disputation.  They  denounced  me  as  a 
heretic,  and  discarded  me  ;  but  as  the  Jesuit  then  di- 
vulged his  opinions  and  doings,  he  was  a  most  irreli- 
gious and  hardened  transGjressor.  The  misery  which 
he  entailed  upon  his  female  victims  to  him  was  an  ob- 
ject ot  ridicule,  and  as  to  his  children,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Diganu,  no  person  can  give  any  account  of 
them.  In  his  first  rage,  after  the  lawsuits  were  directed 
to  be  commenced,  I  dreaded  from  his  menaces,  that  Di- 
ganu and  Chretien  would  both  have  been  sacrificed  !" 
I  lemarked,  "  It  was  always  a  subject  of  interest  to 
us  which  we  could  never  unfold,  how  the  discovery 
was  made  tliat  J  was  residing  with  Diganu." 

"  I  will  explain  that  circumstance,"  replied  The- 
rese.  **  On  the  night  after  your  escape,  one  of  the 
priest's  parishioners  arrived  in  the  city,  and  informed 
him  of  the  fire.  He  instantly  acquainted  me  with  the 
vexatious  occurrence.  For  the  injury  to  his  furniture 
and  books  he  cared  not ;  his  anxiety  was  concerning 
your  security :  respecting  which  he  dared  not  to  in- 
quire.   On  the  next  nioruing  he  hurried  to  bis  resi- 


o\ 
ot 

itJ 
ell 
d< 
ful 


LORETTE. 


181 


Jii- 
si- 


dence,  and  collected  all  the  information  which  he  could 
obtain,  but  he  could  discover  no  trace  either  of  you  or 
of  his  money.  He  did  not  suppose  that  you  had  taken 
it.  After  a  long  and  fruitless  researcli,  it  was  con- 
cluded, that  the  fire  had  originated  in  Guise's  impru- 
dence ;  that  you  had  escaped  unobserved  in  the  con- 
fusion, and  that  some  persons  had  obtained  possession 
of  the  gold  and  silver,  who  carefully  secreted  the  trea- 
sure." I  again  asked,  "  Did  the  pretre  continue  his 
inquiries,  and  thus  make  the  discovery  1  or  by  what 
means  was  my  actual  existence  and  place  of  abode  at 
last  ascertained  ?"  Therese  tremulously  answered, 
**  I  always  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  that  you  were 
dead ;  and  to  my  shame,  with  regret  I  confess,  that  I  de- 
lighted in  the  thought  that  you  had  perished.  I  argued 
that  it  was  utterly  impossible  you  could  have  survived 
exposure  in  the  night  in  the  open  air,  and  that  it  was 
most  probable  you  had  been  drawned,  as  you  could  not 
know  any  route  from  that  parish.  He  resisted  those 
ideas,  and  maintained  that  you  were  too  squeamish  to 
die  of  your  own  accord  :  nevertheless,  he  was  perplex- 
ed. Guise  declared,  that  as  soon  as  they  saw  the  fire, 
the  people  at  the  dance  started  with  all  rapidity,  that 
when  she  arrived,  the  flames  had  made  but  little  pro- 
gress ;  that  the  persons  who  broke  open  the  doors  of 
the  house  mentioned  nothing,  e;.'cept  that  the  fire  seem- 
ed to  have  begun  with  the  stove  pipe,  and  that  she 
tried  to  find  Louise  in  vain.  Every  invostiiration  was 
made,  but  no  information  was  elicited,  and  the  men 
were  unanimous,  that  all  the  doors  were  forcibly  en- 
tered, and  that  except  the  fire,  every  thing  in  the 
house  was  just  as  if  the  pretre  )iad  been  at  home.  For 
once  the  Jesuit  was  batiled,  and  might  have  continued 
80  until  the  end,  had  he  not  practised  one  of  his  wiles. 
He  engaged  all  the  priests  to  mak(^  his  money  the  sub- 


ill 


182 


LORBTTE. 


ject  of  search  at  confession;  and   tinally  authorized 
them  to  ofler  the  full  possession  of  the  whole  property 
taken  from  him,  and  a  perfect  release  from  tlie  civil 
law,  with  the  ahsolution  oi'  the  church,  to  all  [Persons 
who  would  give  any  information   respecting  the  oris^jn 
of  tlie  fire.     Had  Di^jaiui  or  Chretien  associated  with 
the  priests,  or  gone  to  confession  as  before,  they  would 
have  heard  of  it,  althonjrh  neither  of  tiiem  were  sus- 
pected as  being  acquainted  with  any  of  the  circum- 
stances, for  the  or,^*re  had  seen  Dir*anu  on  the  morn- 
ing  of  the    day  »  hen    they    rescued    you.     Several 
months  had  elapsed  after  the  Jesuit's  crat'tv  contri- 
vance was  put  in  operation,  when  he  visited  me,  and 
stated,  that  he  had  received  an  anonymous  account  of 
Louise's  tliglu\     '  Is  she  alive  or  dead  V  was  my  in- 
quiry.    *  1  cannot  tell,*  he  answered,  '  read  this  letter, 
I  will  see  you  to-morrow ;    then  we  will  decide  what 
shall  be  done.     It  was  doubtless  written  only  to  up- 
braid and  tantalize  the   pretre."     I  hastily  asked  our 
mother  this  question,  *'  Before  we  read  that  letter,"  lor 
she   had   safely  preserved  it,  ''*do   tell  me,  Therese, 
were  you  my  companion  to  the  priest's  house,  as  well 
as  to  Jacques  Cartier  ?  for  I  could   never  satisty  my 
mind  upon  that  subiectT'    Tlierese  replied,  **  O  !  hor- 
rible recollection,  yes  it  was  1  who  thus  betrayed  my 
own  iiurdcent  lamb  to  that  raveninir  woh."      I  further 
inquireii,   **  How  is   it   possible  you  could  so  disguise 
yourself',  that  I  should  not  be  able   to  recognise  either 
your  persoaul  appt  .'ranee  or  your  voice  '"      With  the 
deepest  emotion,  Tnerese  ar  >\vered,  '*  Ah  !   my  dear 
Louise,  you  know  nothing  Oi  these  devices,      I  shall 
not  relat.^  a  Jesuit's   aad  a    nun's  tricks:   but  ever v 
specie"?  ot  coDca^Bem  tiiey  can  and  do  assume  to  ex- 
ecute their  mischievous  pur|^»ses.    ^^  I  have  been 
aJone,  tortured  with  bodilv  r;nn,  cismayeU   with  iuex- 


fa 

wl 

atl 

ml 

vii 

lI 

F 

v< 

h( 
tr^ 
of 
re 

ta 


-|i<hW»i»»»- 


LORETTK. 


183 


pressible  anguish,  and  all  my  sins  have  stared  me  in  the 
face  in  their  aggravated  criminality  ;  my  two  journeys 
with  you,  in  connexion  with  the  dreadtiil  catastrophe 
at  Lorette,  have  always  appeared  to  include  the  ut- 
most barbarity  and  wickedness,  wiiich  human  depra- 
vity can  possible'  combine.     Comfort  nie  once  more, 
Louise,  with  the  assuraiice  of  your  pardon  !"     She 
paused  and  trembled.     "  I  have  already  often  assured 
you,  my  dear  mother,"  was  my  reply,  **  that  I  have 
heartily  forgiven  all  your  offences  against  me  ;  and  I 
trust  that  the  God  of  mercy  has  a'«o  blotted  them  out 
of  the  book  of  his  remembrance,  and  granted  you  the 
remission  of  sin.     Whatever  I  mav  judije  of  the  trans- 
gression,  and  of  your  instigator,  I  think,  trom  your  de- 
tail, that  your  condition  at  that  period  was  not  less 
pitiable   than    odious."     She    pathetically    answered, 
**  Blessed  be  God  !  that  I  can  now  venture  to  review 
those  terrific  scenes  without  that  harrowing  torment 
which  formerly  accompanied  the  remembrance :  and 
although  I  abhor  mvself  and  niv  wavs,  vet  1  can  ex- 
ercise  a  humble  trust  in  the  elficacy  of  tlie  Redeemer's 
pardoning  grace,  and  I  can  teebly  hope  that   I  have 
experienced   the  application   of  the    blood  of  Christ 
which  cleanseth  from  all  sin."     1  subjoined,  "  I  am 
convinced  that   it    is   this   confidence  on  your  behalf 
whicli  has  enabled  me  to  hear  your  narrative  with  so 
little  perturbation  ;  ti  at  it  is  not  only  exemption  from 
danger  and  gratitude  for  deliverance,  but  also  the  con- 
solation of  believing  that  vour  trans^rression  is  foreiven, 
and  that  your  sin  is  covered.     So  that,  liowever  repul- 
sive it   is  to  survey  past  deformity,  the  sting  of  sin  is 
extracted,  and  additional  penitence,  humility,  faith  »nd 
devotion  are  enkindled  by  the  painful  contemplations." 
The  weeping  Therese  replied,  *'  I  think  I  have  found 
this  effect  latterly  produced  in  my  own  mind.     On 


184 


LORETTB. 


I 


former  occasions,  when  I  meditated  upon  the  course 
which  I  have  pursued,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  ago- 
ny, but  it  was  not  united  with  melting.  My  feelings 
were  the  dislike  and  unsubdued  will  of  the  guilty  de- 
linquent, not  the  tender-hearted  and  sorrowful  aver- 
sion of  the  repenting  sinner.  I  was  humbled  for  my 
wretchedness,  not  for  my  transgressions.  1  believed, 
but  it  was  the  agonising  convictions  of  coerced  alarm, 
not  the  lowly  apprehensions  of  a  filial  trust,  and  I  cri- 
ed, but  it  was  a  desire  to  escape  from  present  pain 
and  anticipated  wo,  not  the  prayer  for  wisdom,  holi- 
ness, resignation,  and  Christian  peace."  I  answered, 
**  It  is  very  consolatory  to  me,  Therese,  to  witness  this 
gracious  transformation  in  your  feelings  and  views  of 
yourself  and  of  Divine  truth."  Therese  tenderly  add- 
ed, **  By  the  Divine  blessing,  Louise,  I  owe  to  you  all 
that  1  savingly  know,  experience,  and  hope,  and  can 
only  pray  that  you  may  be  abundantly  rewarded  for 
your  work  of  faith  and  labour  of  love,  according  to  the 
Redeemer's  promise !"  My  reply  was,  *'  Let  me 
read  the  letter.  I  am  anxious  to  understand  the  mys- 
terious occurrence  which  ferreted  me  out  of  my  seclu- 
sion." 

Mr.  D.  Pretre. 

"  You  are  taking  much  trouble  to  find  out  the  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  the  fire  in  your  house,  and 
have  offered  that  the  money  which  you  say  was  lost 
in  your  house  may  be  retained  by  any  person  who  se- 
creted ft,  provided  only  you  can  be  fully  informed  con- 
cerning that  event.  But  why  did  you  never  inquire 
after  the  girl  you  had  imprisoned  there  ?  Now,  if 
ever  I  hear  of  any  more  search  being  made  after  the 
cash,  I  will  publish  the  story  about  Louise." 

"  What  did  the  priest  say  to  that  threa?  ?"  I  asked, 
**  did  he  manifest  no  uneasiness  at  the  proposed  dis- 


i.oHErrE. 


185 


closure  ?'*  Therese  replied,  "  Not  at  all ;  the  Jesuit 
only  smiled  with  contempt.  *  Silly  fool!'  said  the 
pretre,  *  his  tale  would  necessarily  unfold  the  robbery  ; 
and  as  he  would  be  hanged,  no  person  would  believe 
one  syllable  which  he  uttered.  Besides,  the  men  who 
first  opened  the  doors,  would  testify  that  no  person 
was  in  the  house,  and  Guise  will  swear  to  any  thing 
which  she  is  taught.*  But  I  answered,  *  Suppose 
more  than  one  person  should  have  been  concerned  in 
the  afiair,  how  will  that  affect  the  point  V  The  priest 
remarked,  *  They  dare  not  tell  the  story  for  their  own 
sakes  ;  yet  I  should  rejoice  to  discover  this  insolent 
fellow.*  But  go  on."  Louise  continued  to  read  the 
letter.  "As  you  seem  so  very  desirous  to  learn  some- 
thing of  the  matter  ;  I  will  tell  you  what  I  heard  about 
it  sometime  ago,  in  Montreal.  The  man  who  related 
the  circumstance,  mentioned  neither  time,  nor  names, 
nor  place ;  but  from  the  questions  which  have  been 
asked  by  the  cure  of  our  parish,  it  must  be  the  same 
affair,  and  well  may  you  be  willing  to  give  up  the 
hush  money.  All  that  rejoices  me  is  that  the  good 
girl  escaped  from  your  brutal  clutches."  A  smile 
passed  over  my  countenance,  and  I  inquired  of  The- 
rese, "  How  did  the  pretre  receive  that  sarcasm  t*' 
Our  mother  replied,  **  He  swore  most  furiously;  and 
declared,  that  he  would  find  out  whether  you  were 
dead  or  alive.  I  endeavored  in  vain  to  turn  away  his 
attention  from  the  unholy  and  as  I  thought  fruitless 
search.  But  providence  in  a  most  mysterious  manner, 
has  ordered  all  our  affairs  for  the  best." 

Louise  proceeded  in  the  perusal  of  the  letter.  •*  You 
will  never  know  who  were  the  chief  actors  in  that 
affair  ;  but  three  travelling  young  men  stopped  at 
your  parish  church  during  mass.  Your  journey  to 
Quebec  was  talked  of;  and  the  dance  at  night.     It 

16 


•  ';  i 


186 


LORETTB* 


was  also  mentioned,  that  an  old  jilt,  who  was  left  in 
charge  of  your  house,  would  bo  at  the  frolic.  As  the 
pretres  always  have  a  plenty  of  money  in  their  posses- 
sion; the  travellers  arranged  their  plan.  At  three 
o'clock  they  left  the  frolic  unobserved.  Having  en- 
tered your  house,  they  were  frightened  at  the  sight,  as 
they  thought,  of  the  old  woman,  whom  they  had  left 
at  the  dance  asleep !  but  they  instantly  discovered 
that  it  was  a  young  female  preparing  to  escape  from 
the  window.  She  made  known  her  wretched  situa- 
tion ;  and  so  to  spoil  such  a  coquin's  tricks,  the  stran- 
gers seized  your  money,  invited  Louise  to  accompany 
them,  set  fire  to  the  house,  gave  the  alarm,  and  un- 
perceived  by  any  person  drove  away,  amid  the  shouts 
and  uproar  of  the  party  hurrying  from  the  dance. 
They  left  the  girl  the  next  evening,  and  can  never 
hear  of  her  since  ;  so  that  you  have  Louise's  death 
to  answer  for ;  and  remember,  some  more  of  us  are 
ready  to  take  a  peep  into  your  upper  apartments,  and 
look  at  your  secret  proceedings." 


##«*#** 


"  How  did  the  pretre  like  this  menace  ?"  I  asked. 
Therese  answered,  "  He  was  so  intimidated,  that  for 
a  long  time  he  was  never  known  to  be  absent  at  night, 
unless  he  could  engage  some  of  his  parishoners  to  re- 
main as  a  guard.'*  I  again  inquired,  "  How  did  he 
act  upon  this  information  ?"  Therese  informed  me  in 
reply,  **  Immediately  after  the  reception  of  this  letter, 
the  Jesuit  started  all  his  confreres  upon  the  scent,  for 
they  are  a  confederated  pack ;  but  the  pursuit  was 
unavailing.  Every  hope  of  attaining  any  knowledge 
of  you  was  nearly  abandoned,  when  the  cure  of  Lo- 
iiette  stated,  that  he  had  heard  some  intelligence  of  a 
Strange  girl,  who  was  sick  at  that  village,  about  the 
very  time  of  tbo  fire.     The  stupid  squaws  however, 


ti 


liii 


LORETTB. 


187 


and 


had  either  forgotten  or  could  give  no  precise  account 
of  the  feet.     With  great  difficulty,  the  surgeon  was 
finally  identified.     By  a  large  bribe,  he  was  induced 
to  unite  in  the  search.     When  it  was  ascertained  that 
yon  had  clandestinely  left  your  lodgings,  I  desired  that 
all  farther  inquiries  should  terminate,  as  it  would  only 
involve  Diganu  and  Chretien  in  perplexity."     I  asked, 
*'  Why  was  your  opinion  not  adopted]"     Therese  re- 
marked, **  You  cannot  form  any  idea  of  the  craftiness 
and  pertinacity  of  a  Jesuit  priest  in  persevering  to  ful- 
fil that  which  he  has  once  undertaken.     The  pretre 
cursed    most   dreadfully,  and   declared   that   nothing 
should  satisfy  him  until  he  had  obtained  undeniable 
evidence  of  your  death  ;  and  that  he  would  obtain  pos- 
session of  you  if  you  could  be  found :  and  he  remarked 
with  an  expressive  tone  and  look,  *  you  know,  The- 
rese, we  cannot  be  deceived.'  "     I  interposed,  "That 
reminds  me  of  a  query  which  I  have  often  wished  to 
make :  *  Why  was  the  cross  imprinted  upon  Diganu 
and  myself?'  "     Therese  answered,  **  Merely  to  iden- 
tify the  children  in  case  of  necessity,  provided  it  is 
determined  that  they  shall  live.     It  was  the  will  of  the 
two  priests,  that  you  should  bear  a  cross  with  their 
initials,  in  an  oval,  which  they  said  was  the  first  letter 
of  my  name.     But  for  that  mark,  you  and  your  bro- 
ther could  not  have  been  separated.     It  is  wonderful 
what  a  multiplicity  of  contrivances  the   priests  and 
nuns  adopt  to  recognise  their  unacknowledged  child- 
ren, if  they  are  spared  a  premature  death  in  infancy." 
I  replied,  **  The  sight  of  Diganu's  cross  so  exactly 
similar  to  my  own    instantly  convinced    me  that  we 
should  not  be  married.     I  never  could  view  him  in  the 
relation  of  a  husband."     Therese  continued,  **  Your 
separation   was   dreadful   but   necessary.     No    other 
mode  could  be  devised  without  divulging  to  your  fa- 


;k. 


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188 


f 


LORETTE. 


ther  the  prior  circumstances  respecting  the  manner  In 
which  you  and  Diganu  had  become  acquainted,  and 
even  the  other  pretre  did  not  possess  sufficient  efi'ron- 
tery  for  the  confidential  exposure  of  that  peculiar  ini- 
quity." I  added,  **  We  could  have  been  mutually  be- 
neficial, and  Diganu  would  have  been  calmed  in  a 
moment  by  the  demonstration  of  the  fact,  that  we  are 
maternally  related."  Our  mother  remarked,  "  True, 
but  my  dear  Louise  !  you  forget  that  the  Jesuit's  wick- 
ed design  upon  you  was  restored  in  full  vigour,  as  soon 
as  he  ascertained,  that  you  might  probably  be  reco- 
vered." I  suddenly  ejaculated,  "  Thanks  be  to  God ! 
my  soul  *  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fow- 
ler, because  the  Lord  was  on  my  side.'  But  proceed 
with  your  narrative." 

Therese  thus  continued,  "  The  first  communication 
which  pleased  the  priest,  was  the  surgeon's  statement, 
that  the  female  servant  whom  Diganu  kept  was  never 
seen  out  of  the  house.  From  this  fact,  the  wily  Jesuit 
observed  that  there  was  cause  for  more  minute  inquiry. 
The  surgeon,  however,  and  the  woman  with  whom 
you  had  resided,  both  avowed  that  you  were  not  the 
girl  who  had  been  sick  at  Lorette."  I  remarked,  "  I 
do  not  wondef  at  their  being  deceived,  for  I  always 
dressed  so  uncouthly  that  no  i>erson  could  easily  have 
recognised  me."  Therese  continued,  '*  Diganu's  fa- 
ther and  the  surgeon  were  outwitted  at  their  interview 
with  the  young  men.  Their  immoveable  firmness, 
their  unconcern  at  the  priest's  details,  and  their  im- 
perturbable composure  when  his  parting  menace  was 
pronounced,  disconcerted  him,  and  the  pretre's  inge- 
nuity was  completely  frustrated.  Every  thing  might 
have  passed  unheeded,  had  your  appointed  marriage 
been  deferred,  or  had  any  other  place  been  selected 
for  the  ceremony.     But  as  soon  as  the  cure  of  Lorette 


r  Jn 
and 
on- 
ini- 
be- 
n  a 
are 
rue, 
ick- 
00  n 
|eco- 
;od! 
fow- 
eed 


LORCTTE. 


189 


heard  Diganu's  name  mentioned  as  the  bridegroom, 
the  circumstance  was  communicated  to  his  father.  The 
Jesuit,  without  hesitation,  affirmed  that  the  choice  of 
Lorette  for  the  marriage  was  a  proof  of  some  peculiar 
cause,  and  instantly  avowed  his  conviction  that  you 
were  the  proposed  wife.  The  squaw  was  therefore 
directed  to  visit  you,  and  although  rather  incoherent j 
her  account  rendered  immediate  measures  indispensa- 
ble. Your  father  was  sent  for  to  meet  us  at  Lorette. 
He  was  merely  informed  that  some  time  before  you 
had  eloped  from  our  care.  The  heresy  which  you  had 
imbibed  from  Marguerite  was  alleged  as  the  cause.  It 
was  also  stated,  that  you  had  been  traced  to  Diganu^s 
house,  and  that  you  were  engaged  to  be  married, 
that  a  separation  was  unavoidable,  and  to  conceal  our 
mutual  secrets,  he  consented  to  the  plan  which  was 
executed.  Your  dress  betrayed  you,  for  the  Jesuit 
and  Guise  both  recognised  it  upon  your  entrance 
into  the  church.  Of  the  four  in  the  conveyance 
in  which  you  were  driven  to  the  General  Hospital, 
your  father  was  the  most  callous.  He  swore,  thai  it 
would  be  preferable  to  permit  your  marriage.  "  They 
are  not  related  at  all,  according  to  the  law  of  the 
church,"  he  said,  "  neither  of  them  can  have  any  fa- 
ther or  mother,  because  a  priest  or  a  nun  cannot  be  a 
parent,  and  at  all  events,  a  dispensation  can  be  obtain- 
ed from  the  bishop ;  and  then  we  shall  be  no  more 
plagued  with  them.  If  Louise  will  not  be  a  nun  and 
do  like  her  mother,  let  her  live  with  Diganu,  married 
or  single,  as  they  please."  His  scheme  would  have 
been  assented  to  :  t  first,  for  he  proposed  it  before  we 
met  in  the  church,  had  not  Diganu^s  father  resisted  the 
proposition.  He  could  not  brook  that  bitter  disap- 
pointment :  so  with  true  Jesuit  grimace  he  descanted 
upon  illegal  marriages,  and  your  father  feeling  neither 

16» 


w 


190 


LORETTE. 


for  you  nor  Diganu  more  than  he  did  for  his  brother 
priest  and  me,  agreed  to  those  violent  measures  which 
were  adopted."  I  asked  Therese,  "  Can  you  inform 
me  why  I  was  released  from  the  insane  apartment  and 
transferred  to  Montreal  V* 

"  The  interview  which  Diganu  and  Chretien  had 
with  the  bishop,"  replied  Therese,  **  perplexed  us,  al- 
though the  cure  of  Lorette  had  stated  the  circumstances 
to  him,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  exonerate  the  priests,  and 
to  criminate  your  brother  and  his  friends.  Neverthe- 
less, the  bishop  perceived  that  the  complainants  were 
not  intimidated  by  his  menaces.  He  saw  in  them  a 
cool  spirit  of  resolute  defiance,  and  as  the  consequences 
might  affect  the  priestcraft,  he  deemed  it  necessary 
more  minutely  to  examine  the  subject.  The  cure  of 
Lorette  was  ordered  to  attend,  and  in  recounting  the 
threats  which  Rohoirsic  addressed  to  him,  the  cure 
expressed  his  fears,  from  the  number  of  witnesses  who 
were  present,  some  of  whom  were  unknown,  except  to 
Diganu  and  Chretien  and  the  lawyer,  and  therefore 
could  not  be  secretly  removed,  that  a  judicial  investi- 
tion  would  be  attended  with  serious  injury  to  their  or- 
dci*,  and  recommended  that  the  bishop  should  interpose 
his  authority,  so  as  to  quash  those  denounced  pro- 
ceedings at  law,  which  would  terminate  in  the  convic- 
tion and  disgrace  of  the  assailants.  The"  two  priests 
were  therefore  directed  to  meet  at  the  bishop's  palace, 
and  at  first  he  higiily  censured  them  for  their  doings. 
However  they  speedily  pacified  their  superior's  pre- 
tended wrath^  by  assuring  him  that  the  nun  who  was 
concerned  was  his  own  daughter.  He  immediately 
visited  me  in  the  convent,  and  having  examined  me  for 
the  mark  of  recognition — here  our  mother  showed  mo 
the  sign  which  had  been  stamped  by  his  order — the 
bishop  acknowledge!  that  I  was  his  child.  He  also 
itated  that  my  mother  had  been  superieure  of  tho  Ge- 


LORBTTE. 


191 


Jesuit  »ftf '*"^l°'\Tsl.op  by  the  superieure  herself; 
„y  relation  to  the  b^hoP^y  ,,,„ea  of  the  truth  of 
and  unknown  to  me,  I'a'l  been  ^^^^  ^j^,^h 

Ter  statement  through  bavmg;«-^^„^  ^,,„g,a  our 
she  had  described.  Jh''  ^    „f  ^^he  parties  in  a  new 

affairs,  as  i<  P'^^f  t  ^  .free  ed  that  the  storm  should 
relation.     The  bishop  d''"r\  '     g„t  ^  all  the  law- 
Z  appeased  by  an  ""'l^.^^'^^ts  not  done,  until  I  had 
yer's  propo5'»°»f;'''"Vmv  father  at  confession;  ex- 
^xplaiued  tlie  subj*";*   °  ^  jh^  seal  of  that  secrecy 
pressly  that  as  a  P"f  '  ""^^   Ve  might  know  all  the 
which  the  ceremony  ""P"^*''    •  ,,  yju  and  your  bro- 
Tomplicated  events  <=o"»«^';„^,^tis^  measures  to  the 
ther      He  accordingly  f^P'^v,  "eharacter  of  Diganu 
risis;  and  being  ple^edj'th  thee  ^^^ 

and  Chretien,  he  «7"^"^^^ify  the  young  men  who 
which  Rohoirsic  "f  de  to  parity  t^^^  ^.^^^  .^  j, 
had  so  "obly  acted  shouW  be  CO    P  ^  ^^^ 

did  not  unfold  thf.<=°"".f'""ect  to  yourself  were  the 
nuns.  The  condmons  '»;^^fj^;„f  that  Rohoirs.c 
lawyer's    spo"*.'"'^""  VJ^ou  both  were  my  cbtldren. 

should  be  ^''»y\"^„l'  wub  D>g«"»-  ^P°"  u  '''"2 
was  an  essentia  P"  "^  ^"'^i,  deprivation  with  as  much 
ranee,  he  has  submitted  to  h^      P  .^  ^^i,^t  he  is, 

fortitude  as  he  can  cultivate.  i^^^  the 

and  in  wl'^tV^PFromrtie  proofs  given  «  Rohoirs.c 
invisible  world.    F^""  "' jaV.on  to  the  bishop,  I  have 
with  the  exception  of  my  relat.       ^^^   ^^ole   secret." 

no   doubt   that  he    ""f ";?;,.  i  asked,  "  since  our 

..Where  did  you  <='"f„y;f Hospital V  Therese  an- 
separation  at  the  Gj^neral  Ho  P        ^^^^^  y^^^,^^„4 

swered,  "  I  remained  in  y^"*"^;  „  never  saw  me. 
'yr;e're  -ntj^^y  "-^t^d'the  blhop  to  permit  me 
After  that  period,  1  requesic 


199 


LOBETTB. 


to  reside  at  Point  aux  Trembles  ;  and  there  I  first  be- 
gan to  reflect  upon  myself.     It  originated  partly  in  the 
great  difference  of  character  and  temper  between  my- 
self and  one  of  my  associates  of  nearly  my  own  age. 
I  suspect  that  she  was  just  such  a  nun  as  you  would  have 
been :  unsuspicious  but  reserved^  and  an  unscrutiniz- 
ing  devotee,  in  whom  confidence  could  be  reposed  for 
any  thing  good:  the  specimen  of  a  convent  for  show, 
necessary  to  be  kept  for  display  and  ornament.     I  be- 
lieve that  she  was  as  ignorant  of  the  true  nature  of  a 
nunnery  as  a  person  who  has  never  heard  of  monastic 
life.     She  was  remarkably  placid  and  lowly,  and  pur- 
sued the  ordinary  routine  not  less  mechanically  than  an 
automaton.     We  often  conversed  together,  and  I  was 
surprised  at  her  real  or  affected  innocence ;  but  as  I 
felt  no  inclination  to  disturb  her  in  her  course,  I  re- 
flected upon  her  peculiar  qualities,  and  at  length  con- 
cluded that  her  even  and  useless  life  was  preferable  to 
my  own  restless  and  tormenting  passions.     It  is  now 
nearly  four  years  since  I  began  to  experience  unequi- 
vocal symptoms  of  feebleness.     Confinement  and  se- 
clusion occasionally  followed;    and  in   solitude,  my 
conscience  thundered  its   denunciations   against   my 
heinous  crimes.     The  first  effect  was  my  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  priests.     I  felt  that  my  whole  life  was  dis- 
gusting ;  that  I  was  chargeable  not  only  with  having  done 
no  good,  but  that  the  account  was  evil,  only  evil,  conti- 
nually.    My  nervous  depressions  increased.     These 
additionally  alarmed  my  imagination,  and  acting  upon 
a  temper  naturally  captious  and  vehement  and  habi- 
tuated to  long  unruliness,  rendered  me  peevish  and 
morose.     The  darkness  of  my  mind  filled  me  with  dis- 
quietude, and  I  had  no  comforter.     I  requested  per- 
mission to  return  to  Quebec.     To  this  the  bishop  ob- 

irisit  which  he  made  me. 


i: 


jeoled;  and  during 


pro* 


LORETTB. 


103 


St  be- 

ntbe 
my. 

age. 

have 

tiniz- 

d  for 

how, 
Ibe- 

ofa 

astic 

pur- 
man 

was 

as  I 

re- 
con- 
le  to 
now 
qui- 

se- 
my 
my 


posed  that  I  should  remove  to  Montreal,  with  permis- 
sion to  correspond  with  Rohoirsic.     The  two  years 
which  I  passed  in  the  old  nunnery  at  Montreal  were  a 
period  of  almost  unceasing  pain  hoth  in  mind  and  body, 
without  any  alleviation.  Scorned,  detested  and  slighted 
like  yourself,  but  without  your  interior  comforts,  and 
agonized  with  variety  of  grief,  it  was  a  time  of  most 
tormenting  fear.     The  pretres  I  abhorred,  their  doc- 
trines I  disbelieved,  their  mummery  I  despised,  and 
their  excommunication  I  scorned.    With  inexpressible 
disquietude  I  was  revolving  my  situation,  when  a  sud- 
den thought  rushed  into  my  mind  to  have  you  for  my 
companion."     I  remarked,   "  That  impression  upon 
your  mind  must  have  proceeded  from  Divine  influence, 
and  is  another  proof  upon  what  fleeting  thoughts  and 
apparently  trifling  events  the  most  important  conse- 
quences depend."     Thereso  answered,  "So  I  have 
latterly  considered  it.     That  impression  was  the  gate 
to  the  path  of  the  just  for  me  to  walk  in  to  the  endless 
day.     But  O  !  what  did  I  feel!  shame,  disgrace,  re- 
morse and  even  horror!  then  I  desired  your  forgive- 
ness, hoped  for  your  sympathy,  longed  for  knowledge, 
and  realized  an  indefinable  anxiety  for  something  or 
any  thing  which  might  calm  the  tempestuous  ragin^^s 
of  my  soul.     Nothing  upon  earth  could  make  me  more 
debased ,  and  I  was  solicitous  to  hf  ar  you  say  that  you 
pardoned  my  unnatural  wickedness.     Like  Job,  I  was 
full  of  tossings  to  and  fro ;  yet  the  wish  for  your  compa- 
ny strengthened,  and  I  wrote  my  first  letter  to  Rohoirsic 
containing  my  request.     He  saw  in  the  plan  an  eligi- 
ble mode  to  release  you  from  your  vexations,  and  re- 
solved to  effect  it.    His  inflexible  obstinacy  alone  con- 
(  uered.     He  has  acted  with  so  much  honour,  that 
\\  bile  the  Jesuits  hate  him  for  his  acquaintance  with 
all  their  detestable  manoeuvres,  they  implicitly  confido 


'W<' 


194 


lorette. 


in  him  in  reference  to  our  affairs.     My  father  having 
died  soon  after  my  removal  to  Montreal,  the  present 
bishop  opposed  the  scheme.     Rohoirsic  insisted,  and 
at  length,  Diganu's  father  represented  that  it  was  of 
no   importance.     "  Therese   and    Louise,"   said  the 
priest,  "are  incorrigible  and  accursed  heretics.  They 
cannot    long   survive;    let  them  live   together  and 
quarrel  till  they  are  dead."     His  unquenchable  ma- 
lignity, through  Divine  compassion,  has  been  disap- 
pointed.    We  are  both  unknown  at  Three  Rivers.    I 
therefore  selected  this  place  as  our  residence.     The 
lawyer  undertook  to  persuade  you  to  accede  to  the 
arrangement,  and  here  we  are  in  peace.     *'  What 
shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  his  benefits  toward 
me.     He  hath  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine 
eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling!"     After  a 
pause  she  added,  *'  Do  you  remember  any  other  par- 
ticulars, Louise,  which  you  wish  to  have  illustrated  1" 
My  reply  was,  "  No ;  except  that  you  will  specify  my 
age."     Therese  said,  "  You  are  now  nearly  thirty- 
one  years  old  ;  a  martyr  to  the  depravity  of  a  Jesuit 
and  a  nun."  With  tearful  emotion  she  presently  added, 
"  how  adorable,  my  Louise,  is  that  goodness  of  God 
which  can  pardon  the  monster  mother  who  has  mur- 
dered such  virtuous  loveliness?"     As  soon  as  I  could 
speak,  I  subjoined,  "  Let  this  reflection  and  all  its  con- 
nected topics  henceforth  sleep  with  your  father  and 
my  father  in  grave-like  oblivion.    We  can  find  ample 
subjects  for  discussion  in  our  present  experience  and 
future  anticipations.     As  the  Apostle  Paul  has  set  us 
the  example ;  '  let  us  forget  those  things  which  are 
behind,  and  reach  forth  unto  those  things  which  are 
before.'  "    Your  mother  very  tenderly  replied,  "  How 
kind,  my  dear  Louise  !  it  shall  be  as  you  desire.    The 
past  henceforth  shall  be  only  subjects  for  penitence 


and 

toh 

of 

ings 

selfl 

gan 

'Hbl 

woi 


ea 

af 

re 

h 

fi 

n 

c 


LORETTE* 


195 


and  my  private  meditation.  It  shall  be  my  endeavour 
to  look  to  Jesus,  'that  I  may  know  him,  and  the  power 
of  his  resurrection,  and  the  fellowship  of  his  suffer- 
ings.' "  From  that  day,  with  the  exception  of  your- 
self and  Chretien,  no  extraneous  matters,  my  dear  Di- 
ganu,  attract'jd  our  attention.  I  trust  in  the  best  sense, 
"  the  world  was  crucified  unto  us,  and  we  unto  the 
world.* " 


DEATH  OF  THERESE. 

Night  is  the  time  of  death ; 

When  all  around  is  peace  ; 
Calmly  to  yield  the  weary  breath, 

From  sin  and  suffering  cease, 
Think  of  Heaven's  bliss,  and  give  the  si^. 

To  parting  friends ; — such  death  be  mine ! 

Louise  thus  narrated  the  closing  part  of  Therese's 
earthly  pilgrimage.  I  had  hoped,  as  the  spring  would 
afford  us  an  opportunity  of  being  in  the  air,  that  The- 
rese's strength  might  be  partially  restored.  We 
had  become  endeared  to  each  other  as  Christian 
friends,  and  our  daily  communion  sanctified  and  ce- 
mented our  attachment.  But  she  declined  very  per- 
ceptibly, and  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  inform  the  law- 
yer of  her  situation.  Rohoirsic  visited  us,  received 
her  benediction  for  you,  accepted  her  gratitude,  and 
promised  to  fulfil  her  requests.  She  then  seemed  to 
have  discarded  all  connexion  with  this  world  except 
myself.  The  revolving  weeks  only  witnessed  her 
increasing  solicitude  that  she  might  not  be  deceived 
at  last ;  that  she  might  not  be  deserted  by  the  Lord  in 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ;  and  that  she  might 
enjoy  the  humblest  part  in  the  immortal  songs  of  the 


M' 


106 


LORETTE. 


redeemed.  Sometimes  she  appeared  to  dread  the 
approaching  separation  from  the  body,  while  at  others, 
she  would  speak  of  it  with  trembling  hope.  I  was, 
however,  gratified  to  know,  that  her  apprehensions  of 
the  spirituality  of  God's  law  became  more  intense: 
Her  petitions  also  were  more  fervid  for  the  acceptable 
qualities  wrought  in  the  soul  by  Divine  grace;  and 
her  anxieties  to  be  blessed  with  the  good  hope  that 
purifieth  the  heart  steadily  increased.  Therese  im- 
bibed with  greediness  all  that  knowledge  which  en- 
larged her  views  of  spiritual  things,  especially  in  their 
searching  operations,  upon  her  own  conscience;  and 
she  would  often  pronounce  her  emphatic  assent  to  the 
Scriptures  and  other  books. 

A  year  had  nearly  elapsed  from  our  first  interview, 
whei\.  Therese  manifested  symptoms  of  speedy  disso- 
lution. She  was  composed  and  equable;  and  her 
whole  attention  was  absorbed  by  the  momentous  ques- 
tion :  "  Am  I  in  Christ  Jesus  ?"  Divine  mercy  ex- 
empted her  from  unusual  depression ;  and  her  own 
contrition  and  humility  precluded  any  strong  feelings 
of  elevation.  "  I  feel  myself,"  our  mother  on  one  oc- 
casion remarked,  "  in  a  situation  something  like  Pe- 
ter's when  he  was  in  the  sea.  He  saw  his  perilous 
and  helpless  state ;  he  believed  the  power  and  mercy 
of  Jesus  ;  and  cried.  Lord,  save  me  !  This,  Louise, 
is  my  abiding  experience.  I  behold  my  presumptu- 
ous sins,  my  blood-guiltiness,  and  my  great  transgres- 
sions ;  and  I  can  only  look  to  the  infinite  compassions 
of  him  'who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost,'  through 
the  ever  living  intercessor.  I  therefore  constantly 
pray,  *  deliver  me,  O  God,  thou  God  of  my  salva- 
tion !'  *'  My  reply  was,  "  No  doubt,  Therese,  the 
Lord  has^  heard  your  voice  and  your  supplication : 
and  I  also  have  often  prayed  for  you,  that  you  may 


cxpl 
dia( 

notl 
the] 
evii 
real 
qu< 
tioi 
-ld| 

Ilil 


N. 


LORETTE. 


107 


d  the 

ihers, 

Was, 

»is  of 

lense: 

'table 
and 
that 
im- 
en- 

their 

and 

►  the 


experience,  like  Peter,  the  truth  of  the  Saviour's  me- 
diation J  and  that  in  the  trying  scene,  your  faith  may 
not  fail."  Of  herself  she  spoke  but  little,  except  in 
the  form  of  ejaculatory  supplication;  but  her  language 
evinced  a  heart  deeply  impressed  with  all  the  living 
realities  of  the  world  to  come.  She  often  uttered 
questions,  the  result  no  doubt  of  her  previous  medita- 
tion, "  Where  shall  I  go?  what  shall  I  be  ?  what  shall 
-I  do  ?  whom  shall  I  see  ?  what  shall  I  say  ?  how  shall 
I  live  ?  am  I  ready  for  the  change  V*  Then  she  would 
request  me  to  read  to  her  those  verres  of  Scripture 
which  describe  the  future  state  in  its  characters,  in- 
habitants and  employments,  with  the  prerequisites 
which  the  Lord  claims  as  necessary  to  an  admission 
into  his  Father's  house  of  many  mansions.  Sometimes 
she  would  speak  with  tolerable  confidence ;  and  after 
hearing  a  paragraph  which  enumerates  the  fruits  of 
the  spirit  as  evidences  of  the  work  of  grace,  she  would 
add,  "  Well,  I  think,  I  have  attained  a  little  of  that 
quality,"  and  when  reviewing  the  causes  of  exclusion 
from  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  she  would  remark, 
"  Blessed  be  God !  I  think  I  am  cleansed  from  that 
stain."  But  generally  her  comfort  was  restricted  to 
the  hope,  that  she  had  unfeignedly  repented  of  her 
sins,  and  that  with  sincere  desire  she  was  "  looking 
for  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal 
life. 

For  several  days  before  her  departure,  Theresa  con- 
tinued in  much  stupor.  Our  intercourse  was  short  and 
unfrequent ;  but  her  feeble  expressions  developed  more 
confidence.  On  the  last  day  of  her  life,  the  superieure 
proposed  that  the  chaplain  should  be  admitted.  I  ob- 
jected, as  it  violated  all  my  religious  principles,  but 
expressed  my  willingness  that  the  superieure  should 
hint  her  wish  to^  the  dying  penitent.    During  her  next 

17 


ii: 


108 


LORBTTE. 


sensible  interval,  the  head  of  the  convent  proffered  the 
attendance  of  the  priest  to  administer  the  last  offices 
of  his  church.  With  long  pauses  as  her  feebleness 
permitted,  Therese  observed,  "  I  am  greatly  indebted 
and  thankful  to  you,  madanie,  for  all  your  kindness  to 
me  and  Louise,  since  we  have  been  residents  here,  hut 
this  offer  I  cannot  accept.  I  wish  to  give  you  my  dy- 
ing testimony.  After  a  long  acquaintance  with  your 
religion,  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  a  gross  imposition 
upon  mankind.  It  is  not  less  impious  and  absurd  in 
doctrine,  than  practically  immoral  and  wicked."  The 
superieure  uttered  an  Ave  Mary,  and  crossed  herself 
in  agitation.  Therese  continued,  **  I  was  educated  in 
your  church,  have  lived  in  convents,  and  for  forty 
years  believed  all  that  thi?  pretres  taught,  and  did  every 
thing  which  they  ordered  me.  My  alienation  from 
them  and  their  delusions  commenced  in  solitude,  when 
I  was  *  made  to  possess  months  of  vanity,  and  weari- 
some nights  were  appointed  unto  me.'  T  know  all  their 
private  infidelity  and  vices,  their  Jesuitical  fniesse, 
their  masquerading  characters,  and  their  public  impos- 
tures." The  superieure  again  trembled  and  crossed 
herself.  "  But  I  had  no  substitute  for  the  evils  which 
my  conscience  rejected,"  added  Therese,  **  Louise 
has  taught  me  what  I  did  not  know.  She  has  commu- 
nicated to  me  instruction  from  the  true  word  of  God; 
and  in  its  light,  I  trust  that  I  have  seen  the  light.  I 
have  discarded  your  church.  I  loath  all  its  commu- 
tations fer  iniquity,  the  claim  to  the  Divine  preroga- 
tive to  absolve  from  sin  which  the  priests  blasphemously 
assume,  and  the  power  which  they  so  iniquitously  ex- 
ercise over  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  the  silly  de- 
ceived people,  *  laden  with  sins  and  taken  captive  by 
them  at  their  will' — and  I  abhor,  as  the  source  of  all 
evil,  the.  ruinous  opiaipn.  which  they  tea<;b,  dial  the 


cve| 

m\ 

whl 

fori 

mc| 

mv 

int| 

T( 

bo| 

on| 

wl 


red  the 
offices 
^leness 
•debted 
it'ss  to 
^•e,  but 

your 
osid'on 
"I'd  in 

The 
lerself 
ted  ill 
forty 
Qvery 
from 
when 
eari« 
their 
esse, 
>pos- 
>ssed 
iiich 
uise 


LORETTE. 


IW 


1 


everlasting  condition  of  every  individual  will  be  deter- 
mined according  to  their  appointment.     The  injuries 
which  they  have  done  to  me  and  Louise,  we  heartily 
forgive,  and  we  also  pray,  that  the   Lord  will  have 
mercy  upon  you  and  upon  them,  and  upon  the  deceived 
multitudes  whom  as  *  blind  guides,  they     re  leading 
into  the  ditch.'     I  am  not  now  one  of  their  disciples. 
To  a  Roman  priest,  I  will  make  no  co  fession.     I  ab- 
hor bi«  5  retended  absolution,  which  he  wiP  pronounce 
only  for  money,  or  for  his  criminal  gratificition ;  and 
which,  as  they  often  told  me,  depended  upon  their  in- 
tention, but  who  can  be  certain  of  a  Jesuit's  design, 
except  by  the  rule  of  reverse  ]     As  to  their  extreme 
unction,  it  is  the  invention  of  Satan  to  smooth  the  en- 
trance to  eternal  despair.     I  request,  therefore,  that 
I  may  be  permitted  to  depart  in  quietude,  and  not  be 
discomposed   in  my  last  moments  by  a  rite  which 
Christianity  condemns.     I  am    now  in    charity   and 
peace  with  all  mrtukind.     My  dear  Louise !   do  not 
permit  the  holy  culm  within  to  be  ruffled."     1  replied, 
"  The  superieure,  my  dear  mother,  has  only  perform- 
ed her  duty,  I  disapproved  of  the  measure,  and  I  re- 
joice that  through  the  expression  of  her  wish,  the  Lord 
has  enabled  you  to  declare  your  opinions."     Therese 
continued,  "  I  have  now  done  with  the  world,  Louise; 
and  you  will  soon  follow  me.  That  blessed  book  which 
opened  my  blind  eyes  and  healed  my  broken  heart, 
will  support  you  during  yo  t  short  remaining  stay  on 
earth,  and  I  trust  that  we  shall  again  meet  in  that  joy- 
ful state,  where  *  the  wicked  cease  kom  troubling,  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest.'     Pray  for  me,  while  I  can  un- 
derstand your  petitions  and  join  with  you  in  desire." 
I  presumed  that  the  superieure  would  have  withdrawn, 
but  lis  she  had  been  directed  to  witness  the  manner  of 
Therese's  death,  she  remained  by  the  bed.  I  breathed 


4 


#• 


■f**t.  .    Ji__..   'r'?' 


800 


LORETTE- 


forth  my  humble  but  sincere  prayer  for  our  dying  mo- 
ther, and  for  my  beloved  Diganu.     Her  amen  was  ap- 
pended to  my  supplications,  as  my  emotions  obliged 
me  to  pause,  especially  when  your  welfare  was  the 
subject,  and  also  when  I  implored  that  she  might  en- 
joy the  light  of  God*s  countenance  in  the  parting  mo- 
ment, and  be  carried  by  angels  into  Abraham^s  bosom. 
The  superieure  was  evidently  afiected.     To  her  it  was 
a  novelty  incomprehensible,  that  a  heretic  could  pray 
to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.     As  I  arose  from  my 
knees,  Therese  motioned  to  me  to  approach  nearer  to 
her;  and  having  kissed  me,  with  a  look  of  tender  af- 
fection she  said,  "  My  dear  Louise,  I  hope  all  is  well. 
I  trust  that  I  have  found  acceptance  in  Christ.     May 
God  hear  and  answer  your  prayers,  and  may  you  ever 
experience  his  grace,  mercy  and  peace,  until  we  meet 
in  the  joys  of  heaven  !"     Having  presented  the  supe- 
rieure her  adieu,  she  reclined  her  head  in  a  doze,  oc- 
casionally interrupted  by  the  motion  of  her  lips,  which, 
from  the  clasping  of  her  hands,  betokened  prayer. 
Her  breath  and  pulse  gradually  became  more  faint. 
After  several  hours,  we  distinctly  perceived  a  placid 
smile  overspreading  her  languid  features ;  she  opened 
her  eyes,  and  looked  upon  me.     I  took  her  hand,  she 
feebly  returned  the  pressure,  it  was  her  last  effort ! 
presently  my  mother  uttered,  "  I  shall,  Louise,  I  shall,*' 
— and  her  spirit  returned  to  God  who  gave  it.     Her 
corpse  was  removed  by  Rohoirsic's  directions ;  and  I 
was  consoled  by  hearing,  my  dear  brother,  that  you 
had  attended  your  mother's  remains  to  "  the  house  ap- 
pointed for  all  living." 


LORETTB. 


201 


f  ng  mo- 
■was  ap. 
[obJiged 
fvas  the 
?ht  en- 

[bosom, 
it  was 

d  pray 

fw  my 

irer  to 

ter  af- 
weJJ. 
May 

J  ever 

meet 

supe- 


DEPARTURE  OF  LOUISE.. 

Death  springs  to  life  : — 

Though  brief  and  sad  thy  story, 

Thy  years  all  spent  in  care  and  gloom, 

Look  up,  look  up !  ..   ^    " 

Eternity  and  glory  *' 

Dawn  through  the  portals  of  the  tomb. 

Louise  thus  finished  her  narrative.  "My  dear  bro- 
ther! I  have  been  emplo^'ed  for  some  time  in  exami- 
ning the  papers  which  record  my  experience  since  our 
separation,  and  as  I  know  not  how  soon  the  messenger 
may  be  despatched  for  you  to  witness  my  dissolution, 
while  I  have  a  little  strength,  I  will  supply  all  that  is 
necessary  for  you  fully  to  retrace  my  varying  exercises. 

"  From  the  first  sight  of  the  cross  on  your  head  so 
exactly  similar  to  my  own,  I  always  felt  as  if  we  were 
naturally  related.  When  I  assented  to  your  proposal 
of  marriage,  my  feelings  revolted,  notwithstanding  all 
my  affection  for  you  ;  and  something  whispered  within 
me,  you  cannot  be  married.  Nothing  but  the  dread  of 
losing  your  protection  and  that  of  Chretien,  and  of 
being  again  separated  and  exposed  to  my  former  dan- 
gers, induced  my  involuntary  acquiescence.  It  is  im- 
possible to  explain  to  you  the  unceasing  perplexity  in 
which  I  passed  my  nights  and  days.  Every  one  of 
those  incidents  which  alarmed  us  urged  me  nearer  to 
you  as  the  only  alternative  of  escape,  while  every  feel- 
ing of  ray  heart  repelled  the  idea  of  a  matrimonial  con- 
nexion. The  only  point  on  which  I  never  wavered, 
was  respecting  the  performance  of  the  nuptial  cere- 
mony at  Lorette.  A  deep-rooted  prepossession,  for 
which  I  never  could  account,  was  fixed  in  my  heart, 
that,  as  there  we  first  became  acquainted,  so  there  it 
should  terminate  or  be  sealed  for  ever.    Therese  inti- 

17* 


I'i 


802 


LOBETTE. 


mated,  that  a  delay  in  the  tune  and  a  change  in  the 
place  would  have  overcome  all  the  difficulties ;  but 
this  was  an  incorrect  impression  which  the  deceitful 
pretre  had  given  her,  for  he  informed  me,  although  it 
might  have  involved  more  trouble,  that  the  result  would 
have  been  the  same.  You  and  Chretien  were  so  closely 
and  incessantly  watched,  that  you  could  not  have  left 
Quebec  without  being  pursued ;  and  he  also  assured 
me  with  the  utmost  sang-froid,  that  your  lives  if  ne- 
ceiisary  would  have  been  forfeited,  rather  than  you 
should  have  escaped  to  publish  the  fact  of  my  abduc- 
tion. "  Nothing  is  more  easy,"  said  the  Jesuit,  with 
a  petrifying  look  of  malignant  obduracy,  which  I  shall 
ever  recollect,  "  and  they  would  have  been  remem- 
biered  only  with  abhorrence."  Every  priest  was  in- 
structed how  to  act  in  case  two  young  men  named  Di- 
ganu  and  Chretien  offered  themselves  for  marriage,  so 
that  I  am  now  convinced,  the  melancholy  affair  was 
ordered  in  wisdom  and  mercy.  Through  your  means, 
I  was  delivered,  your  mother  converted  ;  and  a  peace- 
ful seclusion  is  secured  to  me  as  long  as  I  am  a  so- 
journer in  this  vale  of  tears. 

To  Rohoirsic,  under  God,  T  am  indebted  for  all  the 
alleviations  of  my  trials  during  my  residence  in  Que- 
bec. I  cannot  describe  to  you  his  agitation,  while  I 
narrated  ray  doleful  tale.  He  delicately  requested  me 
to  evad«  any  facts  which  it  would  pain  me  to  disclose; 
and  manifested  great  satisfaction  at  the  recital  of  my 
escape ;  but  resolutely  pronounced  his  indignation. 
"  Fear  not,  Louise,"  he  said  at  the  close  of  my  narra- 
tive, **  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  the  personal  safety 
of  Diganu  and  Chretien,  you  shall  have  redress.  They 
cannot  alleviate  your  sorrow — I  can  ;  and  be  assured, 
in  spite  of  all  the  power,  artifices,  and  malevolence  of 
every  Jesuit  in  Canada,  I  will  he  your  friend  and  pro- 


} 


as  I 
vi^ 
dul 


V    ^ 


LORETTE. 


208 


you 

bduc- 
with 
siiall 


tector,  or  some  other  person  shall  fill  that  office,  as  long 
as  jou  live."  We  separated.  His  promise  was  a  re- 
viving cordial,  the  benefits  of  which  I  have  enjoyed 
during  ten  years,  undiminished  both  in  its  sweets  and 
plenteousness. 

"  Notwithstanding  all  the  servile  duties  which  I  was 
obliged  to  perform,  my  spirits  remained  cheerful.  I 
lived  upon  the  truth  of  the  Divine  word.  I  supplicated 
for  light  to  discern  my  spiritual  way ;  and  the  Hearer 
of  prayer  graciously  condescended  to  apportion  my 
ability  to  my  burden.  The  irregularities  which  I  wit- 
nessed only  increased  my  aversion  to  sin.  The  pre- 
tended arguments  with  which  my  principles  were  as- 
sailed affected  my  mind  no  more  than  the  green  withes 
could  bind  Sampson's  strength.  The  heartless  for- 
mality with  which  the  popish  ceremonies  were  des- 
patched, only  confirmed  my  dislike  of  that  hollow  im- 
posing exterior  which  concealed  the  real  corruption. 
Even  the  most  vexatious  of  all  their  devices,  the  con- 
tumely of  the  uninformed  youth  eventually  produced 
no  other  effect,  than  to  keep  me  nearer  the  Lord, 
whom  I  found  to  be  *  my  refuge  and  fortress,  and  whose 
truth  was  my  shield  and  buckler.*  Yet  there  were 
hours  of  overwhelming  dreariness.  I  was  not  formed 
for  solitude,  and  the  little  of  Christianity  which  I  knew 
often  rendered  the  want  of  communion  with  a  fellow 
pilgrim,  a  subject  of  almost  undevout  murmur.  When 
I  annually  heard  of  you  and  Chretien,  of  your  exem- 
plary characters,  of  your  steadfast  adherence  to  your 
principles,  and  of  your  prayers  on  my  behalf,  I  have 
frequently  ejaculated,  *  O  that  f  had  wings  like  a  dove ! 
for  then  would  I  fly  away  and  be  at  rest*  with  you. 
Then  after  a  temporary  reverie,  I  would  awake  to  the 
consciousness  of  my  confined  cell,  and  feel  an  over- 
powering restless  aching  void,  which  was  only  assuaged 
by  the  application  of  the  gospel ;  and  with  all  solici- 


-ijimi.jesfr^ 


_■'•  vim 


"V 


204 


LORETTE. 


tude  to  realize  its  force,  I  would  utter,  *  I  will  say  unto 
God,  my  rock,  why  hast  thou  forgotten  me?  why  go  I 
mourning  because  of  the  oppression  of  the  enemy  1 
why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  souH  and  why  art  thou 
disquieted  within  me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall 
yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance 
and  my  God.'  This  calmed  the  tempest,  and  although 
I  counted  the  interval  to  the  New  Year's  day  with  im- 
patience ;  yet  when  the  transient  interview  with  the 
lawyer  had  terminated,  it  generally  agitated  my  heart 
for  Home  days  after,  and  it  was  the  most  difficult  por- 
tion of  all  the  evangelical  schooling  which  I  expertenc- 
ed,  to  acquiesce  with  the  Lord's  will.  Divine  grace, 
however,  at  length  enabled  me  to  say,  and  I  think  in 
the  same  resigned  temper  with  which  David  addressed 
Zadok,  *here  am  I,  let  him  do  to  me  as  seemeth  good 
unto  him.'  I  now  understand  the  cause  of  this  gospel 
discipline.  The  Lord  was  gradually  preparing  my 
heart  for  the  duties  of  that  grateful  office  which  I  was 
destined  to  execute.  Had  I  known  the  name  of  ray 
proposed  associate,  it  is  probable  that  I  should  have 
refused  all  solicitation  ;  but  I  had  so  long  experienced 
Rohoirsic's  fidelity,  that  his  word  was  law  with  me. 
Then  first  I  understood  that  Christian  obligation,  to 
do  good  for  its  own  sake.  Thanks  be  to  God  !  it  was 
effected;  and  lean  truly  say,  that  in  giving,  I  receiv- 
ed. Truly  I  was  a  novice  in  almost  every  thing,  and 
confinement  in  the  nunnery  had  not  instructed  me.  It 
was  a  mercy,  therefore,  that  I  witnessed  your  mother's 
last  year.  Death  and  sickness,  except  in  my  own  ex- 
perienced debility,  I  had  never  seen ;  for  the  nuns  at 
Quebec  excluded  me  from  all  intercourse,  as  much  as 
if  I  had  been  infected  with  the  plague.  At  Three 
Hi  vers  I  very  impressively  learnt  how  mortality  va- 
nisheth  away.  In  a  most  aflfecting  example,  I  saw 
horn  the  Lord  can  adapt  his  mercy.    Anxiously  I  be^ 


LORETTE. 


205 


held  every  step  in  the  pathway  of  righteousness  trod- 
den by  Therese,  from  the  city  of  destruction  to  the 
river  of  death,  until  grace  triumphed  in  glory.     Dur- 
ing this  whole  scene,  I  was  also  deeply  convinced  of 
my  own  increasing  frailty ;  but  I  had  a  companion. 
Her  strong  bursts  of  penitential  anguish  enlivened  my 
own  contrite  feelings.     Her  occasional  vehemence  to 
take  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  force  quickened  my 
own  sincere  endeavours.     Her  aspirations  of  praise 
inspired  my  gratitude,  and  her  closely  scrutinizing 
application  of  the  Divine  oracles,  taught  me  the  genu- 
ine characters  of  that  spiritual  mindedness  which  is 
life  and  peace.     The  lesson  has  been  most  salutary. 
Of  the  soul's  separation  from  the  body,  my  ideas  were 
vague,  incoherent  and  without  sensibility ;  now  they 
are   precise,   determinate,   and   animating.     I   have 
marked  a  penitent  sinner's  change,  an  emaciated  mo- 
ther's conversion  to  God,  and  a  humble,  cautious,  and 
apprehensive  believer,  casting  her  hope  as  a  sure  and 
steadfast  'anchor,  within  the  veil,  whiiher  the  forerun- 
ner for  us  is  entered ;'  and  I  can  retrace  this  whole 
Christian  landscape  of  the  narrow  road,  with  all  that 
I  can  include  in  the  most  joyful  interpretation  of  the 
patient  Job's  cheerfully  resigned  and  peacefully  con- 
^  '-^nt  language.     It  expresses  your  Louise's  feelings 
and  solicitudes:  'all  the  days  of  my  appointed  time 
will  I  wait  till  my  change  come.' 

"  I  was  removed  from  Three  Rivers  almost  imme- 
diately after  the  death  of  Therese.  Rohoirsic  visited 
me,  and  stated  that  if  I  approved,  I  might  return  to 
Quebec  to  reside  in  private  lodgings ;  and  that  he 
had  agreed  with  Diganu's  father,  that  you,  my  bro- 
ther, should  not  be  apprized  of  the  fact  until  our  final 
interview,  when  I  should  be  on  the  threshold  of  eter- 
nity. This  delighted  me,  and  the  lawyer  provided 
apartments  where  almost  daily  I  have  seen  you  and 


20G 


LORETTE. 


Chretien.  I  could  have  informed  you  of  nothing 
which  these  papers  will  not  communicate.  In  my 
feeble  condition,  frequent  personal  intercourse  would 
only  have  agitated  our  feelings  unnecessarily,  and 
opened  your  wounds  afresh  without  any  balm  to  as- 
suage the  pain.  It  has  been  a  cordial  to  my  spirits 
to  behold  you,  and  to  pray  for  my  brother  and  his 
friend  as  you  have  passed  along  the  street,  uncon- 
scious that  your  Louise  was  so  near  you.  Often  have 
1  rejoiced  to  hear  your  names  associated  with  every 
thing  good.  Always  have  I  felt  delighted  in  the  as- 
surance that  our  mutual  requests  constantly  ascend  to 
the  throne  of  grace,  and  that  we  shall  meet  in  "  the 
New  Jerusalem,  around  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the 
Lamb,  with  his  name  in  our  foreheads ;  there  to  see 
his  face,  and  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his  temple." 

"My  increasing  debility  urges  me  to  seal  the  packet 
of  manuscripts  intended  for  your  perusal.  When  you 
read  these  papers,  my  dear  Diganu,  you  will  rejoice 
as  your  Louise  has  rejoiced,  and  you  will  weep  with 
those  who  have  wept.  The  anticipation  of  Paradise 
has  often  supported  me  amid  my  severei^t  earthly  tri- 
als; and  now  in  the  nearing  approach  of  dissolution, 
the  prospective  reunion  with  our  mother  and  you  and 
Chretien,  among  *  the  great  multitude  whom  no  man 
can  number,  to  stand  before  the  throne  and  before  the 
Lamb,  and  sing  salvation  to  our  God,'  so  enraptures 
my  heart,  that  it  leaves  me  nothing  to  desire,  but  to 
be  *  clothed  upon  with  our  house  which  is  from  hea- 
ven, that  mortality  might  be  swallowed  up  of  life : 
and  being  accepted,  that  we  may  be  present  with  the 
Lord  !*    Amen. 

"  Accept,  my  beloved  brother,  the  undying  love, 
and  the  Christian  benediction  of  your  unchanged  and 
faithfully  affectionate  sister. 

Louise." 


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LORETTE* 


207 


POSTSCRIPT   BY   DIGANIT. 


At  the  close  of  the  year  17 —  Rohoirsic  visited 
us.  He  mentioned  his  agreement  with  the  pretre, 
that  in  the  last  period  of  her  life,  we  should  he  admit- 
ted to  the  presence  of  Louise ;  made  us  acquainted 
with  her  removal  to  Quebec,  and  also  stated  ttiat  she 
had  frequently  seen  us.  '  I  came  to  apprize  you  of 
these  circumstances,'  said  our  friend,  •  and  also  to  in- 
form you  that  she  is  now  reduced  so  low,  that  you 
may  prepare  your  minds  for  the  invitation  to  the  clos- 
ing scene  of  her  mortal  existence.* 

After  several  days  Rohoirsic  again  appeared,  and 
said,  "  Louise  has  been  much  affected  with  the  pleas- 
ing anticipation  of  meeting  you.  You  will  find  her 
extremely  altered  in  appearance,  so  that  you  would 
not  recogi.ise  her,  except  by  her  voice,  and  the  cross. 
You  are  nearly  the  same,"  she  says,  "  as  she  identi- 
fied you  both  in  the  street,  when  you  were  first  noti- 
ced by  her.  Louise  is  at  the  portal  of  eternity,  per- 
fectly conscious,  in  all  her  mental  vigour,  and  although 
she  can  speak  but  little,  she  is  anxious  to  present  you 
her  last  adieu."  He  retired,  and  after  a  short  interval 
returned.  "  Come,"  said  our  friend,  "  Louise  is  near 
death,  but  fully  sensible,  and  desirous  to  receive  you." 

Who  can  conceive  what  I  felt,  when,  on  entering 
the  room,  instead  of  the  once  blooming  and  graceful 
Louise,  we  saw  a  pale  skeleton !  She  presented  her 
hand,  "  Let  me  look  at  your  head ;"  even  in  its  feeble- 
ness, it  was  her  own  delightful,  well-remembered 
voice.  "It  is  Diganu,"  she  said,  and  as  she  turned 
back  her  hai"  wiih  her  cold  hand,  I  beheld  the  cross. 
"  My  Louise  !"  I  could  utter  no  more.  We  exchanged 
our  tenderest  salutation.  After  a  short  silence,  she 
beckoned  to  Chretien  who  also  received  the  kiss  of 


V'iJ 


208 


LORETTE. 


our  dying  protegee.  When  we  had  partially  recovered 
our  feelings,  she  addressed  me  with  great  difficulty. 
"  My  brother,  here  is  a  packet  which  I  wished  to  de- 
liver into  your  own  hands,"  she  gave  me  the  narra- 
tive of  her  experience,  "our  friend  will  fulfil  all  my 
directions."  She  then  presented  her  thanks  to  Ro- 
hoirsic  for  all  his  care  and  kindness,  and  prayed  that 
the  Lord  would  reward  him  a  hundred  fold,  and  that 
he  might  inherit  everlasting  life.  As  Chretien  re- 
ceived her  testimonial  of  affection,  he  thanked  God 
that  he  was  permitted  to  behold  her  in  peace.  "  Yes, 
Chretien,"  she  replied,  "  your  friend  has  no  doubt  of 
her  eternal  safety."  She  then  addressed  me,  "I  sent 
for  you,  my  beloved  brother,  that  we  might  once  more 
unite  our  devotions  on  earth.  Pray  for  me  and  for 
yourselves,  and  your  Louise  will  join  in  pleading  with 
God  on  your  behalf."  I  attempted  to  comply.  All  I 
remember  is  this,  that  what  was  defective  in  language 
and  manner  was  supplied  by  feeling  and  sincerity. 
At  the  end  of  my  prayer,  she  uttered  her  amen.  As 
I  resumed  my  station  by  her,  she  faintly  said,  "  All 
my  worldly  desires  and  connexions  now  are  ended. 
God  bless  you,  my  brother !"  She  sunk  into  forget- 
fulness,  while  reclining  on  my  shoulder.  After  some 
time,  Louise  again  opened  her  languid  eyes,  and  gave 
me  an  expressive  glance ;  then,  as  she  presently  ap- 
peared to  be  looking  steadfastly  upwards,  my  sister 
whispered  to  me,  "Diganu,  I  see  it.  Lord  Jesus  !  I 
come."  Her  eyes  closed,  and  she  entered  the  rest 
that  remaineth  to  the  people  of  God.  We  interred 
Louise  by  the  side  of  her  mother,  and  there  I  expect 
to  repose,  in  certain  hope  of  the  resurrection  of  the 
just. 

DiGANU.'V 


THE    END. 


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